'- 


GIFT  OF 


We  will  take  a  bicycle  tour 


Three  Men  on  Wheels 

By  Jerome   K.  Jerome 

Author  of  "Three  Men  in  a  Boat,"  "Idle  Thoughts  of  an 

Idle  Fellow,"    "  Second  Thoughts  of  an  Idle 

Fellow,"   etc.,   etc. 


With  Illustrations  by  Harrison  Fisher 


New  York 
Dodd,   Mead  and  Company 

1900 


Copyright,  i8qg,  by  Jerome  K.  Jerome,  in  the 
Saturday  Evening  Post  as  "  Three  Men  on  Four 
Wheels ' '  ,•  Copyright,  igoo,  by  Jerome  K.  Jerome 


UNIVERSITY   PRESS     •     JOHN    WILSON 
AND    SON    •     CAMBRIDGE,    U.S.A. 


Contents 


Page 

I.  FIRST  CHAPTER      ..........  I 

II.  THE  SUBJUGATION  OF  ETHELBERTHA    .     .     .     .  22 

III.  THE  BICYCLE  DOCTOR  OF  FOLKESTONE     ...  42 

IV.  THE  AWAKENING  AT  BEGGARBUSH  .....  61 
V.  THE  UNIVERSAL  EDUCATOR  .......  86 

VI.  AN  AQUATIC  ADVENTURE  AT  HAMBURG  .     .     .  no 

VII.  HARRIS  GOES  SHOPPING    ........  133 

VIII.  THE  REGENERATION   OF  GEORGE     .....  151 

IX.  IN  THE  TOILS  OF  THE  GERMAN  LAW       .      .     .  174 

X.  THE  WAYS  OF  THE  GERMAN   DOG      .      .      .      .  199 

XI.  LOST  IN  THE  BLACK  FOREST      .     .     .     .     .     .  218 

XII.  THE-  SLAVE  OF  THE  BRICK    .......  239 

XIII.  How  GERMAN  STUDENTS  AMUSE  THEMSELVES    .  258 

XIV.  BACK  TO  ETHELBERTHA    .  281 


^72135 


Illustrations 


Page 
"  'We  will  take  a  bicycle  tour*  '          ....      Frontispiece 

"  Mrs.  Harris  put  her  head  in  "      .......  3 

"I  said,    '  Captain  Goyles,  tell  me  frankly  ;  what  is  this 

thing  I  have  hired  ? '  '         17 

"  'I  opened  the  ball  with  Ethelbertha" 22 

"  I  met  Harris  at  the  club  " 29 

George 46 

"  Ethelbertha  came  out " 53 

"  Then  he  lost  his  temper  and  tried  bullying  the  thing  "  55 

"  The  door  is  being  held  ajar'* 65 

"  She  bleated  :  '  G-o-o-d,  g-o-o-o-d,  ind-e-e-e-d  !  '  "     .  72 

"  We  walked  up  to  a  hansom  " 79 

"  George  explained  that  he  wished  to  purchase  a  cap  "  .  84 
"  Our  office-boy  was  responsible  for  our  Wit  and  Hu- 
mour"       94 

"  'I  really  don't  see  that  it  is  our  fault'  "  97 

"'Come,'  urged  the  Professor  " 103 

"'What  a  much  better  method  than  ours'  "  .     .     .      .  121 

"  Proceeded  to  sweep  the  compass  with  that  hose  "   .      .  124 

"The  horse  said,  '  Gott  in  Himmel  !  '  " i  29 

"  '  But  maybe  I  am  misjudging  the  country  '  "     .      .      .  134 

vii 


Illustrations 


Page 

"  The  Germans  are  very  fond  of  dogs,  but  as  a  rule  they 

prefer  them  of  china"        •  '..«, 137 

"  'Stood  up  on  tip-toe  and  kissed  me '  " 149 

"I  turned  my  head  and  saw  the  travelling  Britisher  "     .  153 

Our  Guide 161 

"  We  walked  him  around  that  statue  four  times  "      .      .  166 

"  The  man  stopped  Harris" 175 

"  '  Where  did  you  get  it  from  ? '  "       ...     .      .      .  177 

"  He  bombarded  the  spot"       .      .      .      .      .      ...  189 

'"Don't  you  two  fellows  over-exert  yourselves  on  my 

account '  ' ' 204 

"  '  I  was  looking  at  one  on  a  hoarding '  '          ....  20^ 

"  They  both  abused  it "       . 215 

"  You  are  dressing  when  you  hear  a  grunt  "   .      .      .      .  219 

"  Began  turning  himself  round  and  round  "      ....  224 

"  '  This  is  the  best  view  we  've  had  of  it  as  yet '  "    .      .  229 

"  'Won't  you  come  inside  ?  '  : 243 

"He  carried  a  brick  in  his  hand  " 245 

"Seeking  to  catch,  not  the  dog,  but  the  remaining  pig"  249 

"A  crowd  of  students  laughing,  smoking,  talking"  .      .  262 

"We  were  in  the  garden  of  Kaiser  Hof  "      .      .      .      .  281 

"  He  is  worshipped  as  a  little  god  " 283 

"  Told  to  go  and  hang  himself " 289 


via 


Three  Men  on 
Wheels 

I. —  FIRST    CHAPTER 

WHAT  we  want,"  said  Harris,  "  is 
a  change." 
At  this  moment  the  door 
Dpened  and  Mrs.  Harris  put  her 
head  in  to  say  that  Ethelbertha 
had  sent  her  to  remind  me  that  we  must  not  be 
late  getting  home,  because  of  Clarence.  Ethel- 
bertha,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  is  unnecessarily 
nervous  about  the  children.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
there  was  nothing  wrong  with  the  child  whatever. 
He  had  been  out  with  his  aunt  that  morning, 
and  if  he  looks  wistfully  at  a  pastry  cook's  win- 
dow she  takes  him  inside  and  buys  him  cream 
buns  and  "maids  of  honour0  until  he  insists 
that  he  has  had  enough  and  politely  but  firmly 
refuses  to  eat  another  anything.  Then,  of 
course,  he  wants  only  one  helping  of  pudding 
at  lunch,  and  Ethelbertha  thinks  he  is  sickening 
for  something.  Mrs.  Harris  added  that  it  would 
be  as  well  for  us  to  come  upstairs  soon  on  our 
own  account  also,  as  otherwise  we  should  miss 
Muriel's  rendering  of  the  Mad  Hatter's  Tea- 
Party  out  of  Alice  in  Wonderland.  Muriel  is 
Harris'  second,  age  eight;  she  is  a  bright,  intelli- 


Men   on    Wheels 


gent  child  ;  but  I  prefer  her  myself  in  serious 
pieces.  We  said  we  would  finish  our  cigarettes 
and  follow  almost  immediately;  we  also  begged 
her  not  to  let  Muriel  begin  until  we  arrived. 
She  promised  to  hold  the  child  back  as  long  as 
possible,  and  went.  Harris,  as  soon  as  the  door 
was  closed,  resumed  his  interrupted  sentence. 

"You  know  what  I  mean,"  he  said.  "  A  com- 
plete change." 

The  question  was,  how  to  get  it. 

George  suggested  "  business."  It  was  the 
sort  of  suggestion  George  would  make.  A  bach- 
elor thinks  a  married  woman  does  n't  know 
enough  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  a  steam  roller  ; 
they  bring  them  up  that  way.  I  knew  a  young 
fellow  once,  an  engineer,  who  thought  he  would 
go  to  Vienna  "  on  business/'  His  wife  wanted 
to  know  what  business  ;  he  told  her  it  would 
be  his  duty  to  visit  the  mines  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  Austrian  capital,  and  to  make 
reports.  She  said  she  would  go  with  him  :  she 
was  that  sort  of  woman.  He  tried  to  dissuade 
her;  he  told  her  that  a  mine  was  no  place  for 
a  beautiful  woman.  She  said  she  felt  that 
herself,  and  therefore  she  did  not  intend  to 
accompany  him  down  the  shafts  ;  she  would  see 
him  start  in  the  morning,  and  then  amuse  her- 
self until  his  return  looking  around  the  Vienna 
shops  and  buying  a  few  things  she  might  want. 
Having  started  the  idea,  he  did  not  see  very 


First   Chapter 


well    how    to    get    out    of  it :   and   for  ten  long 
summer   days    he    did    visit    the    mines    in    the 


"  Mrs.  Harris  put  her  head  in  " 

neighbourhood  of  Vienna,  and  in  the  evening 
wrote  reports  about  them,  which  she  posted 
for  him  to  his  Firm,  who  did  n't  want  them. 

3 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

I  should  be  grieved  to  think  that  either  Ethel- 
bertha  or  Mrs.  Harris  belonged  to  that  class  of 
wife,  but  it  is  as  well  not  to  overdo  "  business  " ; 
it  should  be  kept  for  cases  of  real  emergency. 

"No,"  I  said,  "the  thing  is  to  be  frank  and  manly. 
I  shall  tell  Ethelbertha  that  I  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion a  man  never  values  happiness  that  is  always 
with  him.  I  shall  tell  her  that  for  the  sake  of 
learning  to  appreciate  my  own  advantages  as  I  know 
they  should  be  appreciated  I  intend  to  tear  myself 
away  from  her  and  the  children  for  at  least  three 
weeks.  I  shall  tell  her,"  I  continued,  turning  to 
Harris,  "that  it  is  you  who  have  shown  me  my  duty 
in  this  respect ;  that  it  is  to  you  she  will  owe " 

Harris  put  down  his  glass  rather  hurriedly. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  old  man,"  he  said,  "  I  'd 
really  rather  you  did  n't ;  she  '11  talk  it  over  with 
my  wife  —  and  —  well,  I  should  not  be  happy, 
taking  credit  that  I  did  not  deserve." 

"  But  you  do  deserve  it,"  I  insisted ;  "  it  was 
your  suggestion." 

"  It  was  you  who  gave  me  the  idea,"  inter- 
rupted Harris  again  ;  "  you  know  you  said  it  was 
a  mistake  for  a  man  to  get  into  a  groove  —  that 
unbroken  domesticity  cloyed  the  brain." 

"  I  was  speaking  generally,"  I  explained. 

"  It  struck  me  as  very  apt,"  said  Harris.  Cf  I 
thought  of  repeating  it  to  Clara.  She  has  a  great 
opinion  of  your  sense,  I  know.  I  am  sure  that 

if — - 


First  Chapter 


"  We  won't  risk  it,"  I  interrupted  in  my  turn. 
"It  is  a  delicate  matter,  and  I  see  a  way  out  of 
it.  We  will  say  George  suggested  the  idea." 

There  is  a  lack  of  genial  helpfulness  about 
George  that  it  sometimes  vexes  me  to  notice. 
You  would  have  thought  he  would  have  wel- 
comed the  chance  of  assisting  two  old  friends  out 
of  a  dilemma ;  instead,  he  became  disagreeable. 

"You  do,"  said  George,  "and  I  shall  tell 
them  both  that  my  original  plan  was  that  we 
should  make  a  party,  children  and  all.  That  I 
should  bring  my  aunt,  and  that  we  should  hire 
a  charming  old  chateau  I  know  of  in  Normandy 
—  on  the  coast,  where  the  climate  is  peculiarly 
adapted  to  delicate  children,  and  the  milk  such 
as  you  do  not  get  in  England.  I  shall  add  that 
you  overrode  that  suggestion,  arguing  we  should 
be  happier  by  ourselves." 

With  a  man  like  George,  kindness  is  of  no  use ; 
you  have  to  be  firm. 

"You  do,"  said  Harris,  "and  I  for  one  will 
close  with  the  offer.  We  will  just  take  that 
chateau.  You  will  bring  your  aunt  —  I  will  see 
to  that  —  and  we  will  have  a  month  of  it.  The 
children  are  all  fond  of  you  and  I  shall  be 
nowhere.  You  Ve  promised  to  teach  Edgar  fish- 
ing, and  it  is  you  who  will  have  to  play  wild 
beasts ;  since  last  Sunday  Dick  and  Muriel  have 
talked  of  nothing  else  but  your  hippopotamus. 
We  will  picnic  in  the  woods  — there  will  only  be 

5 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W h  eels 

eleven  of  us  —  and  in  the  evenings  we  will  have 
music  and  recitations.  Muriel  is  master  of  six 
pieces  already,  as  perhaps  you  know  ;  and  all  the 
other  children  are  quick  studies." 

George  climbed  down.  He  has  no  real  cour- 
age. He  could  not  even  do  it  gracefully.  He 
said  that  if  we  were  mean  and  cowardly  and  false- 
hearted enough  to  stoop  to  such  a  shabby  trick 
he  supposed  he  could  n't  help  it ;  and  that  if  I 
didn't  intend  to  finish  the  whole  bottle  of  claret 
myself  he  would  trouble  me  to  spare  him  a  glass. 
He  also  added  somewhat  illogically  that  it  really 
did  not  matter,  seeing  both  Ethelbertha  and  Mrs. 
Harris  were  women  of  sense,  who  would  judge 
him  better  than  to  believe  for  a  moment  that  the 
suggestion  emanated  from  him. 

This  little  point  settled,  the  question  was : 
What  sort  of  a  change  ?. 

Harris  as  usual  was  for  the  sea  ;  but  we  do 
not  listen  much  to  Harris  now.  He  said  he 
knew  a  yacht  just  the  very  thing,  one  that  we 
could  manage  by  ourselves  —  no  skulking  lot  of 
lubbers  loafing  about  adding  expense  and  taking 
away  from  the  romance  of  the  thing.  Give  him 
a  handy  boy  and  he  would  sail  it  himself.  We 
knew  that  yacht  and  we  told  him  so  ;  we  had 
been  on  it  with  Harris  before.  It  smells  of  bilge- 
water  and  greens  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other 
scents  ;  no  ordinary  sea  air  can  hope  to  make 
head  against  it ;  so  far  as  sense  of  smell  is  con- 

6 


First   Chapter 


cerned  one  might  be  spending  a  week  in  Lime- 
house  Hole.  There  is  no  place  to  get  out  of 
the  rain  ;  the  saloon  is  ten  feet  by  four,  and  half 
of  that  is  taken  up  by  a  stove  which  falls  to  pieces 
when  you  go  to  light  it.  You  have  to  take  your 
bath  on  deck,  and  the  towel  blows  overboard  just 
as  you  step  out  of  the  tub.  Harris  and  the  boy 
do  all  the  interesting  work  —  the  lugging  and  the 
reefing,  the  letting  her  go  and  the  heeling  her 
over,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  leaving  George 
and  myself  to  peel  the  potatoes  and  wash  up. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  Harris  ;  "  let 's  take  a 
proper  yacht  with  a  skipper  and  do  the  thing  in 
style." 

That  also  I  objected  to.  I  know  that  skipper ; 
his  notion  of  yachting  is  to  lie  in  what  he  calls 
the  offing,  where  he  can  be  well  in  touch  with  his 
wife  and  family  and  his  favourite  public  house. 

Years  ago  when  I  was  young  and  inexperienced 
I  hired  a  yacht  myself.  Three  things  combined  to 
lead  me  into  this  foolishness :  I  had  had  a  stroke 
of  unexpected  luck  ;  Ethelbertha  had  expressed  a 
yearning  for  sea  air ;  and  the  very  next  morning  in 
taking  up  casually  at  the  club  a  copy  of  the  Sports- 
man I  came  across  the  following  advertisement : 

TO    YACHTMEN.     UNIQUE    OPPORTUNITY. 
ROGUE  28-TON  YAWL.      Owner  called  away 
suddenly  on   business  is  willing  to  let  this  superbly 
fitted  "greyhound  of  the  sea"  for  any  period,  short 
or    long.      Two  cabins    and  a    saloon ;    pianette  by 
Woffenkoff ;  new  copper.     Terms,  I  o  guineas  a  week. 
Apply,  PERTWEE  &  Co.,  33,  Bucklersbury. 
7 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    IFh  eels 

It  seemed  to  me  like  the  answer  to  a  prayer. 
The  "new  copper"  did  not  interest  me;  what 
little  washing  we  might  want  could  wait,  I  thought. 
But  the  "  pianette  by  Woffenkoff"  sounded  allur- 
ing. I  pictured  Ethelbertha  playing  in  the  even- 
ing —  something  with  a  chorus,  in  which,  perhaps, 
the  crew,  with  a  little  training,  might  join  —  while 
our  moving  home  bounded  "  greyhound  "-like 
over  the  silvery  billows. 

I  took  a  cab  and  drove  direct  to  3 a,  Bucklers- 
bury.  Mr.  Pertwee  was  an  unpretentious-looking 
gentleman  who  had  an  unostentatious  office  on 
the  third  floor.  He  showed  me  a  picture  in  water- 
colours  of  the  Rogue  flying  before  the  wind. 
The  deck  was  at  an  angle  of  ninety-five  to  the 
ocean  ;  in  the  picture  no  human  beings  were  rep- 
resented on  the  deck.  I  supposed  they  had 
slipped  off — indeed,  I  do  not  see  how  any  one 
could  have  kept  on,  unless  nailed.  I  pointed  out 
this  disadvantage  to  the  agent,  who,  however, 
explained  to  me  that  the  picture  represented  the 
Rogue  doubling  something  or  ot'her  on  the 
well-known  occasion  of  her  winning  the  Medway 
Challenge  Shield.  Mr.  Pertwee  assumed  that  I 
knew  all  about  the  event,  so  that  I  did  not  like 
to  ask  any  questions.  Two  specks  near  the  frame 
of  the  picture,  which  at  first  I  had  taken  for 
moths,  represented,  it  appeared,  the  second  and 
third  winners  in  this  celebrated  race.  A  photo- 
graph of  the  yacht,  at  anchor  off  Gravesend,  was 

8 


First   Chapter 


less  impressive  but  suggested  more  stability.  All 
answers  to  my  inquiries  being  satisfactory,  I  took 
the  thing  for  a  fortnight.  Mr.  Pertwee  said  it 
was  fortunate  I  wanted  it  for  only  a  fortnight  — 
later  on  I  came  to  agree  with  him  —  the  same 
.fitting  in  exactly  with  another  hiring.  Had  I 
required  it  for  three  weeks  he  would  have  been 
compelled  to  refuse  me. 

The  letting  being  thus  arranged,  Mr.  Pertwee 
asked  me  if  I  had  a  skipper  in  my  eye ;  that  I 
had  not  was  also  fortunate  —  things  seemed  to  be 
turning  out  luckily  for  me  all  round  —  because 
Mr.  Pertwee  felt  sure  I  could  not  do  better  than 
keep  on  Mr.  Goyles,  at  present  in  charge ;  an 
excellent  skipper  —  so  Mr.  Pertwee  assured  me 
—  a  man  who  knew  the  sea  as  a  man  knows  his 
own  wife,  and  who  had  never  lost  a  life. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  day,  and  the  yacht  was 
lying  off  Harwich.  I  caught  the  10.45  fr°m 
Liverpool  Street,  and  by  one  o'clock  was  talking 
to  Mr.  Goyles  on  deck.  He  was  a  stout  man, 
and  had  a  fatherly  way  with  him.  I  told  him  my 
idea,  which  was  to  take  the  outlying  Dutch 
Islands  and  then  creep  up  to  Norway.  He  said, 
"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  and  appeared  quite  enthusiastic 
about  the  trip ;  said  he  should  enjoy  it  himself. 
We  came  to  the  question  of  victualling,  and  he 
grew  more  enthusiastic.  The  amount  of  food 
suggested  by  Mr.  Goyles  I  confess  surprised  me; 
had  we  been  living  in  the  days  of  Drake  and  the 

9 


Th  r  e  e  Men  on    Wh  eels 

Spanish  Main  I  should  have  thought  he  was 
arranging  for  something  illegal.  However,  he 
laughed  in  his  fatherly  way,  and  assured  me  we 
were  not  overdoing  it ;  and  anything  left  over,  the 
crew  would  divide  and  take  home  with  them  —  it 
seemed  this  was  the  custom.  It  appeared  to  me 
that  I  was  providing  for  this  crew  for  the  winter, 
but  I  did  not  like  to  appear  stingy,  and  said  no 
more.  The  amount  of  drink  required  also  sur- 
prised me.  I  arranged  for  what  I  thought  we 
should  require  for  ourselves,  and  then  Mr. 
Goyles  spoke  up  for  the  crew ;  I  must  say  that 
for  him  :  he  did  think  of  his  men. 

"  We  don't  want  anything  in  the  nature  of  an 
orgy,  Mr.  Goyles,"  I  suggested. 

"  Orgy  !  "  replied  Mr.  Goyles  ;  "  why,  they  '11 
take  that  little  drop  in  their  tea." 

He  explained  to  me  that  his  motto  was,  get 
good  men  and  treat  them  well. 

"They  work  better  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Goyles, 
"  and  they  come  again." 

Personally,  I  didn't  feel  I  wanted  them  to 
come  again.  I  was  beginning  to  take  a  dislike  to 
them  before  I  had  seen  them.  I  regarded  them 
as  a  greedy  and  guzzling  crew.  But  Mr.  Goyles 
was  so  cheerfully  emphatic,  and  I  was  so  inexpe- 
rienced, that  again  I  let  him  have  his  way.  He 
also  promised  that  even  in  this  department  he 
would  see  to  it  personally  that  nothing  was 

wasted. 

gi 
10 


First   Chapter 


I  also  left  him  to  engage  the  crew ;  he  said  he 
could  do  the  thing,  and  would,  for  me,  with  the 
help  of  two  men  and  a  boy.  If  he  was  alluding 
to  the  clearing  up  of  the  victuals  and  drink  I 
think  he  was  making  an  underestimate ;  but  pos- 
sibly he  may  have  been  speaking  of  the  sailing  of 
the  yacht. 

I  called  at  my  tailor's  on  the  way  home  and 
ordered  a  yachting  suit,  with  a  white  hat,  which 
they  promised  to  bustle  up  and  have  ready  in 
time ;  and  then  I  went  home  and  told  Ethelber- 
tha  all  I  had  done.  Her  delight  was  clouded  by 
only  one  reflection  :  would  the  dressmaker  be  able 
to  finish  a  yachting  costume  for  her  in  time  ? 
That  is  so  like  a  woman. 

Our  honeymoon,  which  had  taken  place  not 
very  long  before,  had  been  somewhat  curtailed, 
so  we  decided  we  would  invite  nobody,  but  have 
the  yacht  to  ourselves.  And  thankful  I  am 
to  Heaven  that  we  did  so  decide.  On  Mon- 
day we  put  on  all  our  clothes  and  started.  I 
forget  what  Ethelbertha  wore,  but;  whatever  it 
may  have  been  it  looked  very  fetching.  My 
own  costume  was  a  dark  blue,  trimmed  with  a 
narrow  white  braid,  which,  I  think,  was  rather 
effective. 

Mr.  Goyles  met  us  on  deck  and  told  us  that 
lunch  was  ready.  I  must  admit  Goyles  had  se- 
cured the  services  of  a  very  fair  cook.  The 
capabilities  of  the  other  mejnbers  of  the  crew  I 


ii 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eel 


never  had  any  opportunity  of  judging.  Speaking 
of  them  in  a  state  of  rest,  however,  I  can  say  of 
them  they  appeared  to  be  a  cheerful  crew. 

My  idea  had  been  that  so  soon  as  the  men  had 
finished  their  dinner  we  would  weigh  anchor, 
while  I,  smoking  a  cigar,  with  Ethelbertha  by  my 
side,  would  lean  over  the  gunwale  and  watch  the 
white  cliffs  of  the  fatherland  sink  imperceptibly 
into  the  horizon.  Ethelbertha  and  I  carried  out 
our  part  of  the  program  and  waited,  with  the  deck 
to  ourselves. 

"  They  seem  to  be  taking  their  time,"  said 
Ethelbertha. 

"  If  in  the  course  of  fourteen  days,"  I  said, 
"they  eat  half  of  what  is  on  this  yacht,  they  will 
want  a  fairly  long  time  for  every  meal.  We  had 
better  not  hurry  them,  or  they  won't  get  through 
a  quarter  of  it." 

"  They  must  have  gone  to  sleep,"  said  Ethel- 
bertha later  on.  "  It  will  be  tea  time  soon." 

They  were  certainly  very  quiet.  I  went  fore 
and  hailed  Captain  Goyles  down  the  ladder.  I 
hailed  him  three  times  ;  then  he  came  up  slowly. 
He  appeared  to  be  a  heavier  and  older  man  than 
when  I  had  seen  him  last.  He  had  a  cold  cigar 
in  his  mouth. 

"  When  you  are  ready,  Captain  Goyles,"  I  said, 
"we'll  start." 

Captain  Goyles  removed  the  cigar  from  his 
mouth. 

12 


First   Chapter 


"  Not  to-day  we  won't,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  with 
your  permission." 

"  Why,  what  's  the  matter  with  to-day  ?  "  I 
said.  "  I  know  sailors  are  a  superstitious  folk ;  I 
thought  maybe  a  Monday  might  be  considered 
unlucky." 

"  The  day  's  all  right,"  answered  Captain 
Goyles.  "  It's  the  wind  I  'm  a-thinking  of.  It 
don't  look  much  like  changing." 

"  But  do  we  want  it  to  change  ? "  I  asked. 
"  It  seems  to  me  to  be  just  where  it  should  be, 
dead  behind  us." 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  Captain  Goyles,  "  c  dead  's  ' 
the  right  word  to  use,  for  dead  we  'd  all  be,  bar 
Providence,  if  we  was  to  put  out  in  this.  You 
see,  sir,"  he  explained  in  answer  to  my  look  of 
surprise,  "  this  is  what  we  call  a  £  land  wind  '  — 
that  is,  it 's  a-blowing,  as  one  might  say,  direct 
off  the  land." 

When  I  came  to  think  of  it  the  man  was  right; 
the  wind  was  blowing  off  the  land. 

"  It  may  change  in  the  night,"  said  Captain 
Goyles  more  hopefully  ;  "  anyhow,  it 's  not  vio- 
lent, and  she  rides  well." 

Captain  Goyles  resumed  his  cigar,  and  I  re- 
turned aft  and  explained  to  Ethel  bertha  the  rea- 
son for  the  delay.  Ethelbertha,  who  appeared  to 
be  less  high-spirited  than  when  we  first  boarded, 
wanted  to  know  why  we  could  n't  sail  when  the 
wind  was  off  the  land. 

13 


Three   Men   on    W^heels 

"  If  it  was  not  blowing  off  the  land,"  said 
Ethelbertha,  "  it  would  be  blowing  off  the  sea, 
and  that  would  send  us  back  into  the  shore  again. 
It  seems  to  me  this  is  just  the  very  wind  we 


want." 


I  said,  "  That  is  your  inexperience,  love  ;  it 
seems  to  be  the  very  wind  we  want,  but  it  is  not. 
It's  what  we  call  a  land  wind,  and  a  land  wind  is 
always  very  dangerous." 

Ethelbertha  wanted  to  know  why  a  land  wind 
was  very  dangerous. 

Her  argumentativeness  annoyed  me  some- 
what ;  maybe  I  was  feeling  a  bit  cross ;  the 
monotonous  rolling  heave  of  a  small  yacht  at 
anchor  depresses  an  ardent  spirit. 

"  I  can't  explain  it  to  you,"  I  replied,  which 
was  true ;  "  but  to  set  sail  in  this  wind  would  be 
the  height  of  fool  hardiness,  and  I  care  for  you  too 
much,  dear,  to  expose  you  to  unnecessary  risk." 

I  thought  this  rather  a  neat  conclusion,  but 
Ethelbertha  merely  replied  that  she  wished  under 
the  circumstances  we  had  n't  come  on  board  till 
Tuesday,  and  went  below. 

In  the  morning  the  wind  veered  round  to  the 
north  ;  I  was  up  early,  and  observed  this  to  Cap- 
tain Goyles. 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  he  remarked;  "it's  unfortu- 
nate, but  it  can't  be  helped." 

"You  don't  think  it  possible  for  us  to  start 
to-day  ?  "  I  hazarded. 

14 


First   Chapter 


He  did  not  get  angry  with  me;  he  only  laughed. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  he,  "  if  you  was  a-wanting  to 
go  to  Ipswich,  I  should  say  it  could  n't  be  better 
for  us,  but  our  destination  being,  as  you  see,  the 
Dutch  coast — why,  there  you  are." 

I  broke  rjie  news  to  Ethelbertha,  and  we  agreed 
to  spend  the  day  on  shore.  Harwich  is  not  a 
merry  town ;  toward  evening  you  might  call  it 
dull.  We  had  some  tea  and  water-cress  at 
Dovercourt,  and  then  returned  to  the  quay  to 
look  for  Captain  Goyles  and  the  boat.  We 
waited  an  hour  for  him.  When  he  came  he  was 
more  cheerful  than  we  were  ;  if  he  had  not  told 
me  himself  that  he  never  drank  anything  but  one 
glass  of  hot  grog  before  turning  in  for  the  night 
I  should  have  said  he  had  been  drinking.  The 
next  morning  the  wind  was  in  the  south,  which 
made  Captain  Goyles  rather  anxious,  it  appearing 
that  it  was  equally  unsafe  to  move  or  to  stop  where 
we  were ;  our  only  hope  was  it  would  change  be- 
fore anything  happened.  By  this  time  Ethel- 
bertha  had  taken  a  dislike  to  the  yacht ;  she  said 
that  personally  she  would  rather  be  spending  a 
week  in  a  bathing-machine,  seeing  that  a  bathing- 
machine  was  at  least  steady.  We  passed  another 
day  in  Harwich,  and  that  night  and  the  next,  the 
wind  still  continuing  in  the  south,  we  slept  at  the 
King's  Head.  On  Friday  the  wind  was  blowing 
direct  from  the  east.  I  met  Captain  Goyles  on 
the  quay  and  suggested  that  under  these  circum- 

15 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    Wh  eels 

stances  we  might  start.     He  appeared  irritated  at 
my  persistence. 

"  If  you  knew  a  bit  more,  sir,"  he  said,  "you'd 
see  for  yourself  that  it's  impossible.  The  wind's 
a-blowing  direct  off  the  sea." 

I  said,  "  Captain  Goyles,  tell  me  frankly ;  what 
is  this  thing  I  have  hired  ?  Is  it  a  yacht  or  a 
houseboat  ?  " 

He  seemed  surprised  at  my  question. 

He  said,  "  It 's  a  yawl." 

"  What  I  mean  is,"  I  said,  "  can  it  be  moved 
at  all,  or  is  it  a  fixture  here  ?  If  it  is  a  fixture," 
I  continued,  "  tell  me  so  frankly  ;  then  we  will 
get  some  ivy  in  boxes  and  train  over  the  port- 
holes, stick  some  flowers  and  an  awning  on  deck, 
and  make  the  thing  look  pretty.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  can  be  moved " 

" Moved ! "  interrupted  Captain  Goyles.  "You 
get  the  right  wind  behind  the  Rogue " 

I  said,  "  What  is  the  right  wind  ?  " 

Captain  Goyles  looked  puzzled. 

"  In  the  course  of  this  week,"  I  went  on,  "  we 
have  had  wind  from  the  north,  from  the  south, 
from  the  east,  from  the  west  —  with  variations. 
If  you  can  think  of  any  other  point  of  the  com- 
pass from  which  it  can  blow,  tell  me  and  I  will 
wait  for  it.  If  not,  and  that  anchor  has  not 
grown  into  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  we  will  have 
it  up  to-day  and  see  what  happens." 

He  grasped  the  fact  that  I  was  determined. 
16 


First   Chapter 


"Very  well,  sir,"  said  he;  "you're  master  and 
I  'm  man.      I  Ve  only  got  one  child  as  is  still 


"/  said  c  Captain  Goyles,  tell  me  frankly,  what  is  this 
thing  I  have  hired?  '  " 

dependent  on  me,  and  no  doubt  your  executors 
will  feel  it  their  duty  to  do  the  right  thing  by  the 

old  woman." 

2  17 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

His  solemnity  impressed  me. 

cc  Mr.  Goyles,"  I  said,  "  be  honest  with  me. 
Is  there  any  hope,  in  any  weather,  of  getting  away 
from  this  hole  ?  " 

Captain  Goyles'  kindly  geniality  returned  to 
him. 

"  You  see,  sir,"  he  said,  "  this  is  a  very  pecu- 
liar coast.  We'd  be  all  right  if  we  were  once 
out,  but  getting  away  from  it  in  a  cockle-shell 

like  that Well,  to  be  frank,  sir,  it  wants 

doing." 

I  left  Captain  Goyles  with  the  assurance  that 
he  would  watch  the  weather  as  a  mother  would 
her  sleeping  babe ;  it  was  his  own  simile,  and  it 
struck  me  as  rather  touching.  I  saw  him  again 
at  twelve  o'clock ;  he  was  watching  it  from  the 
window  of  the  Chain  and  Anchor.  At  five 
o'clock  that  evening  a  stroke  of  luck  occurred. 
In  the  middle  of  the  High  Street  I  met  a  couple 
of  yachting  friends  who  had  had  to  put  in  by 
reason  of  a  strained  rudder.  I  told  them  my 
story  and  they  appeared  less  surprised  than 
amused.  Captain  Goyles  and  the  two  men  were 
still  watching  the  weather.  I  ran  into  the  King's 
Head  and  prepared  Ethelbertha.  The  four  of 
us  crept  quietly  down  to  the  quay,  where  we 
found  our  boat.  Only  the  boy  was  on  board  ; 
my  two  friends  took  charge  of  the  yacht,  and  by 
six  o'clock  we  were  scudding  merrily  up  the 
coast.  We  put  in  that  night  at  Aldburgh,  and 

18 


First   Chapter 


the  next  day  worked  up  to  Yarmouth,  where,  as 
my  friends  had  to  leave,  I  decided  to  abandon 
the  yacht.  We  sold  the  stores  by  auction  on 
Yarmouth  sands  early  in  the  morning.  I  made 
a  loss,  but  had  the  satisfaction  of  cc  doing  "  Cap- 
tain Goyles.  I  left  the  Rogue  in  charge  of  a 
local  mariner  who  for  a  couple  of  sovereigns 
undertook  to  see  to  its  return  to  Harwich,  and 
we  came  back  to  London  by  train.  There  may 
be  yachts  other  than  the  Rogue,  and  skippers 
other  than  Mr.  Goyles,  but  that  experience  has 
prejudiced  me  against  both. 

George  also  thought  a  yacht  would  be  a 
good  deal  of  responsibility,  so  we  dismissed  the 
idea. 

"  What  about  the  river  ? "  suggested  Harris. 
"  We  have  had  some  pleasant  times  on  that." 

George  pulled  in  silence  at  his  cigar  and  I 
cracked  another  nut. 

"  The  river  is  not  what  it  used  to  be,"  I  said. 
cc  I  don't  know  what,  but  there 's  a  something  — 
a  dampness  —  about  the  river  air  that  always 
starts  my  lumbago." 

"  It 's  the  same  with  me,"  said  George.  "  I 
don't  know  how  it  is,  but  I  never  can  sleep  now 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  river.  I  spent  a 
week  at  Joe's  place  in  the  spring,  and  every  night 
I  woke  up  at  seven  o'clock  and  never  got  a  wink 
afterward." 

"  I    merely    suggested    it,"    observed     Harris. 


r  e  e   M  en   on    tf^b  eels 

"  Personally,  I  don't  think  it  good  for  me  either ; 
it  touches  my  gout." 

"  What  suits  me  best,"  I  said,  "  is  mountain  air. 
What  say  you  to  a  walking  tour  in  Scotland  ?  " 

"  It 's  always  wet  in  Scotland,"  said  George. 
"  I  was  three  weeks  in  Scotland  the  year  before 
last,  and  was  never  dry  once  all  the  time  —  not 
in  that  sense." 

"  It 's  fine  enough  in  Switzerland,"  said  Harris. 

"  They  would  never  stand  our  going  to  Switz- 
erland by  ourselves,"  I  objected.  "  You  know 
what  happened  last  time.  It  must  be  some  place 
where  no  delicately  nurtured  woman  or  child 
could  possibly  live ;  a  country  of  bad  hotels  and 
comfortless  travelling ;  where  we  shall  have  to 
rough  it,  to  work  hard, -to  starve,  perhaps " 

"  Easy  !  "  interrupted  George,  "  easy,  there  ! 
Don't  forget  I'm  coming  with  you." 

"  I  have  it !  "  exclaimed  Harris.  "  A  bicycle 
tour  ! " 

George  looked  doubtful. 

"  There 's  a  lot  of  uphill  about  a  bicycle 
tour,"  said  he,  "and  a  deal  of  wind  against 
you." 

"  So  there  is  downhill,  and  the  wind  behind 
you,"  said  Harris. 

"  I  have  never  noticed  it,"  said  George. 

"  You  won't  think  of  anything  better  than  a 
bicycle  tour,"  persisted  Harris. 

I  was  inclined  to  agree  with  him. 

20 


First   C  b  ap  t  er 


"  And  I  '11  tell  you  where,"  continued  he ; 
"through  the  Black  Forest." 

"  Why,  that 's  all  uphill,"  said  George. 

"  Not  all,"  retorted  Harris ;  "  say  two-thirds. 
And  there 's  one  thing  you  Ve  forgotten." 

He  looked  round  cautiously  and  sunk  his 
voice  to  a  whisper. 

"  There  are  little  railways  going  up  those  hills, 
little  cogwheel  things  that " 

The  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Harris  appeared. 
She  said  that  Ethelbertha  was  putting  on  her 
bonnet,  and  that  Muriel,  after  waiting,  had  given 
the  Mad  Hatter's  Tea-Party  without  us. 

"Club  to-morrow  at  four,"  whispered  Harris 
to  me  as  he  rose,  and  I  passed  it  on  to  George 
as  we  went  upstairs. 


21 


II. _THE    SUBJUGATION    OF 
ETHELBERTHA 

I    OPENED  the  ball  with  Ethelbertha  that 
same   evening.      I   commenced   by  being 
purposely  a  little  irritable.      My  idea  was 
that     Ethelbertha    would     remark    upon 
this  ;  I   should  admit  it,  and  account  for 
it  by   over  brain-pressure ;  this   would   naturally 
lead  to  talk  about  my  health  in  general,  and  the 
evident  necessity  there  was  for  my  taking  prompt 
and  vigorous  measures.      I  thought  that  with  a 
little  tact  I  might  even  manage  so  that  the  sug- 
gestion should  come  from  Ethelbertha  herself.     I 
imagined  her  saying : 

"  No,  dear ;  it  is  change  you  want  —  complete 
change.  Now  be  persuaded  by  me,  and  go  away 
for  a  month  ;  no,  do  not  ask  me  to  come  with 
you;  I  know  you  would  rather  that  I  did,  but 
I  will  not.  It  is  the  society  of  other  men  you 
need.  Try  and  persuade  George  and  Harris  to 
go  with  you.  Believe  me,  a  highly  strung  brain 
such  as  yours  demands  occasional  relaxation  from 
the  strain  of  domestic  surroundings.  Forget  for 
a  little  while  the  children  want  music  lessons,  and 
boots,  and  bicycles,  with  tincture  of  rhubarb  three 
times  a  day ;  forget  there  are  such  things  in  life 
as  cooks,  and  house-decorators,  and  next-door 

22 


"  I  opened  the  ball  with  Ethelbertha  " 


Subjugation   of  Ethelbertha 

dogs,  and  butchers*  bills.  Go  away  to  some  green 
corner  of  the  earth,  where  all  is  new  and  strange 
to  you,  where  your  overwrought  mind  will  gather 
peace  and  fresh  ideas.  Go  away  for  a  space  and 
give  me  time  to  miss  you  and  to  reflect  upon 
your  goodness  and  virtue,  which,  continually 
present  with  me,  I  may,  humanlike,  be  apt  to 
forget,  as  one  through  use  grows  indifferent  to 
the  blessing  of  the  sun,  the  beauty  of  the  moon. 
Go  away,  and  come  back  refreshed  in  mind  and 
body,  a  brighter,  better  man  —  if  that  be  possible 
—  than  when  you  went  away." 

But  even  when  we  obtain  our  desires  they 
never  come  to  us  garbed  as  we  would  wish.  To 
begin  with,  Ethelbertha  did  not  seem  to  remark 
that  I  was  irritable ;  I  had  to  draw  her  attention 
to  it.  I  said  : 

"  You  must  forgive  me,  I  'm  not  feeling  quite 
myself  to-night." 

She  said :  "  Oh,  I  have  not  noticed  any- 
thing different  about  you;  what's  the  matter 
with  you  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  you  what  it  is,"  I  said ;  "  I  've 
felt  it  coming  on  for  weeks." 

"  It 's  that  whiskey,"  said  Ethelbertha  ;  "  you 
never  touch  it  except  when  we  go  to  the  Harris'. 
You  know  you  can't  stand  it;  you  have  not  a 
strong  head." 

"  It  is  n't  the  whiskey,"  I  replied.  "  It 's  deeper 
than  that.  I  fancy  it 's  more  mental  than  bodily." 

23 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

"  You  've  been  reading  those  criticisms  again," 
said  Ethelbertha,  more  sympathetically  ;  "  why 
don't  you  take,  my  advice  and  put  them  in  the 
fire  ? " 

"  And  it  is  n't  the  criticisms,"  I  answered ; 
"  they  Ve  been  quite  flattering  of  late  —  one  or 
two  of  them." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  "  said  Ethelbertha  ;  "  there 
must  be  something  to  account  for  it." 

"No,  there  isn't/'  I  replied;  "that's  the 
remarkable  thing  about  it.  I  can  only  describe 
it  as  a  strange  feeling  of  unrest  that  seems  to 
have  taken  possession  of  me." 

Ethelbertha  glanced  across  at  me  with  a  some- 
what curious  expression,  I  thought ;  but  as  she 
said  nothing  I  continued  the  argument  myself: 

"  This  aching  monotony  of  life,  these  days  of 
peaceful,  uneventful  felicity,  they  crush  one." 

"  I  should  not  grumble  at  them,"  said  Ethel- 
bertha ;  "  we  might  get  some  of  the  other  sort 
and  like  them  still  less." 

"  I  'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  I  replied.  "  In  a 
life  of  continuous  joy  I  can  imagine  even  pain 
coming  as  a  welcome  variation.  I  wonder  some- 
times whether  the  saints  in  Heaven  do  not  occa- 
sionally feel  the  continual  serenity  a  burden.  To 
myself,  a  life  of  endless  bliss,  uninterrupted  by 
a  single  contrasting  note,  would,  I  feel,  grow 
maddening.  I  suppose,"  I  continued,  "I  am  a 
strange  sort  of  man ;  I  can  hardly  understand 

24 


Subjugation   of  Ethelbertha 

myself  at  times.  There  are  moments,"  I  added, 
"  when'I  hate  myself." 

Often  a  little  speech  like  this,  hinting  at  hidden 
depths  of  indescribable  emotion,  has  touched 
Ethelbertha,  but  to-night  she  appeared  strangely 
unsympathetic.  With  regard  to  Heaven  and  its 
possible  effect  upon  me,  she  suggested  my  not 
worrying  myself  about  that,  remarking  it  was 
always  foolish  to  go  half-way  to  meet  trouble 
that  might  never  come ;  while  as  to  my  being  a 
strange  sort  of  fellow,  that,  she  supposed,  I  could 
not  help,  and  if  other  people  were  willing  to  put  up 
with  me  it  was  not  a  matter  that  need  trouble  me. 
The  monotony  of  life,  she  added,  was  a  common 
experience ;  there  she  could  sympathize  with  me. 

"You  don't  know  how  I  long,"  said  Ethel- 
bertha,  "  to  get  away  occasionally  even  from  you  ; 
but  I  know  it  can  never  be,  so  I  do  not  brood 
upon  it." 

I  had  never  heard  Ethelbertha  speak  like  this 
before ;  it  astonished  and  grieved  me  beyond 
measure. 

"  That 's  not  a  very  kind  remark  to  make,"  I 
said,  "  not  a  wifely  remark." 

"  I  know  it  is  n't,"  she  replied ;  "  that  is  why 
I  have  never  said  it  before.  You  men  never 
can  understand,"  continued  Ethelbertha,  "that 
however  fond  a  woman  may  be  of  a  man,  there 
are  times  when  he  palls  upon  her.  You  don't 
know  how  I  long  to  be  able  sometimes  to  put  on 

25 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    H^h  eels 


my  bonnet  and  go  out  with  nobody  to  ask  me 
where  I  am  going,  why  I  am  going,  how  long  I 
am  going  to  be,  and  when  I  shall  be  back.  You 
don't  know  how  I  sometimes  long  to  order  a 
dinner  that  I  should  like  and  that  the  children 
would  like,  but  at  sight  of  which  you  would  put 
on  your  hat  and  be  off  to  the  club.  You  don't 
know  how  much  I  feel  inclined  sometimes  to 
invite  some  women  here  that  I  like  and  that  I 
know  you  don't  ;  to  go  and  see  the  people  that  / 
want  to  see,  to  go  to  bed  when  /  am  tired,  and  to 
get  up  when  /  feel  I  want  to  get  up.  Two  people 
living  together  are  bound  both  to  be  continually 
sacrificing  their  own  desires  to  the  other  one.  It 
is  sometimes  a  good  thing  to  slacken  the  strain 
a  bit." 

On  thinking  over  Ethelbertha's  words  after- 
wards I  have  come  to  see  their  wisdom  ;  but  at 
the  time  I  admit  I  was  hurt  and  indignant. 

"If  your  desire,"  I  said,  "  is  to  get  rid  of 
me  -  " 

"  Now  don't  be  an  old  goose,"  said  Ethel- 
bertha  ;  "  I  only  want  to  get  rid  of  you  for  a 
little  while  —  just  long  enough  to  forget  there 
are  one  or  two  corners  about  you  that  are  not 
perfect;  just  long  enough  to  let  me  remember 
what  a  dear  fellow  you  are  in  other  respects,  and 
to  look  forward  to  your  return,  as  I  used  to  look 
forward  to  your  coming  in  the  old  days  when  I 
did  not  see  you  so  often  as  to  become,  perhaps, 

26 


Subjugation   of  Ethelbertba 

a  little  indifferent  to  you  ;  as  one  grows  indiffer- 
ent to  the  glory  of  the  sun,  just  because  he  is 
there  every  day." 

I  did  not  like  the  tone  that  Ethelbertha  took. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  frivolity  about  her  unsuited 
to  the  theme  into  which  we  had  drifted.  That  a 
woman  should  contemplate  cheerfully  an  absence 
of  three  or  four  weeks  from  her  husband  appeared 
to  me  to  be  not  altogether  nice  —  not  what  I  call 
womanly ;  it  was  not  like  Ethelbertha.  I  was 
worried;  I  felt  I  didn't  want  to  go  this  trip  at 
all.  If  it  had  not  been  for  George  and  Harris  I 
would  have  abandoned  it.  As  it  was,  I  could 
not  see  how  to  change  my  mind  with  dignity. 

"  Very  well,  Ethelbertha,"  I  replied,  "  it  shall 
be  as  you  wish.  If  you  desire  a  holiday  from 
my  presence,  you  shall  enjoy  it ;  but  if  it  is  not 
impertinent  curiosity  on  the  part  of  a  husband,  I 
should  like  to  know  what  you  purpose  doing  in 
my  absence." 

"  We  will  take  that  house  at  Folkestone," 
answered  Ethelbertha,  "  and  I  '11  go  down  there 
with  Kate.  And  if  you  want  to  do  Clara  Harris 
a  good  turn,"  added  Ethelbertha,  "  you  '11  per- 
suade Harris  to  go  with  you,  and  then  Clara  can 
join  us.  We  three  used  to  have  some  very  jolly 
times  together  before  you  men  ever  came  along, 
and  it  would  be  just  delightful  to  renew  them. 
Do  you  think  that  you  could  persuade  Mr. 
Harris  to  go  with  you  ?  " 

27 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

I  said  I  would  try. 

"  There  's  a  dear  boy,"  said  Ethelbertha  ;  "  try 
hard.  You  might  get  George  to  join  you." 

I  replied  there  was  not  much  advantage  George 
coming,  seeing  he  was  a  bachelor,  and  that  there- 
fore nobody  would  be  much  benefited  by  his 
absence.  But  a  woman  never  understands  satire. 
She  merely  remarked  it  would  look  unkind 
leaving  him  behind.  I  promised  to  put  it  to 
him. 

I  met  Harris  at  the  club  in  the  afternoon,  and 
asked  him  how  he  had  got  on. 

He  said:  "Oh,  that's  all  right;  there's  no 
difficulty  about  getting  away." 

But  there  was  that  about  his  tone  that  sug- 
gested incomplete  satisfaction,  so  I  pressed  him 
for  further  details. 

"  She  was  as  sweet  as  milk  about  it,"  he  con- 
tinued ;  "  said  it  was  an  excellent  idea  of  George's, 
and  that  she  thought  it  would  do  me  good." 

"  That  seems  all  right,"  I  said  ;  "  what 's  wrong 
about  that  ? " 

"  There 's  nothing  wrong  about  that,"  he  an- 
swered ;  "  but  that  was  n't  all.  She  went  on  to 
talk  of  other  things." 

"  I  understand,"  I  said. 

"  There 's  that  bathroom  fad  of  hers,"  he 
continued. 

"  I  Ve  heard  of  it,"  I  said  ;  "  she  has  started 
Ethelbertha  on  the  same  idea." 

28 


Subjugation   of  Ethel  her  t  ha 

"  Well,  I  Ve  had  to  agree  to  that  being  put  i£ 
hand  at  once ;  I  could  n't  argue  any  more  when 


"  /  met  Harris  at  the  club " 

she  was  so  nice  about  the  other  thing.     That  '11 
cost  me  a*  hundred  pounds,  at  the  very  least." 

29 


* 


•* 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on-  Wb  eels 


"  As  much  as  that  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Every  penny  of  it  ;  the  estimate  alone  is 
sixty/' 

I  was  sorry  to  hear  him  say  this. 

"  Then  there  's  the  kitchen  stove/'  he  con- 
tinued; "  everything  that  has  gone  wrong  in  the 
house  for  the  last  two  years  has  been  the  fault  of 
that  kitchen  stove." 

"  I  know,"  I  said.  cc  We  have  been  in  seven 
houses  since  we  were  married,  and  every  kitchen 
stove  has  been  worse  than  the  last.  Our  present 
one  is  not  only  incompetent;  it  is  spiteful.  It 
knows  when  we  are  giving  a  party  and  goes  out 
of  its  way  to  do  its  worst." 

"  We  are  going  to  have  a  new  one,"  said  Harris, 
but  he  did  not  say  it  proudly  ;  "  Clara  thought 
it  would  be  such  a  saving  of  expense  having  the 
two  things  done  at  the  same  time.  I  believe 
if  a  woman  wanted  a  diamond  tiara  she  would 
explain  that  it  was  to  save  the  expense  of  a 
bonnet." 

"  How  much  do  you  reckon  the  stove  is  going 
to  cost  you  ?  "  I  asked.  I  felt  interested  in  the 
subject. 

"I  don't  know  —  another  twenty,  I  suppose. 
Then  we  talked  about  the  piano.  Could  you  ever 
notice  any  difference  between  one  piano  and 
another  ?  " 

cc  Some  of  them  seem  to  be  a  bit  louder  than 
others/'  I  answered  ;  "  but  one  gets  used  to  that." 

30 


Subjugation   ofEthelbertha 

"  Ours  is  all  wrong  about  the  treble,"  said 
Harris.  "  By  the  way,  what  is  the  treble  ?  " 

"  It's  the  shrill  end  of  the  thing,"  I  explained, 
"  the  part  that  sounds  as  if  you  'd  trod  on  its  tail. 
The  brilliant  selection  always  ends  up  with  a 
flourish  on  it." 

"They  want  more  of  it,"  said  Harris;  "our 
old  one  has  n't  got  enough  of  it.  I  '11  have  to 
put  it  in  the  nursery,  and  get  a  new  one  for  the 
drawing-room." 

"  Anything  else  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  No,"  said  Harris  ;  "  she  did  n't  seem  able  to 
think  of  anything  else." 

"  You  '11  find  when  you  get  home  she  's  thought 
of  one  other  thing." 

"  What 's  that  ?"  asked  Harris. 

"A  house  at  Folkestone  for  the  season." 

"  What  should  she  want  a  house  at  Folkestone 
for  ?  " 

"  To  live  in,"  I  suggested,  "  during  the  sum- 
mer months." 

"  She 's  going  to  her  people  in  Wales,"  said 
Harris,  "for  the  holidays,  with  the  children; 
we've  had  an  invitation." 

"  Possibly,"  I  said,  "  she  '11  go  to  Wales  before 
she  goes  to  Folkestone,  or  maybe  she  '11  take 
Wales  on  her  way  home  ;  but  she  '11  want  a  house 
at  Folkestone  for  the  season,  notwithstanding.  I 
may  be  mistaken  —  I  hope  for  your  sake  that  I 
am  —  but  I  feel  a  presentiment  that  I  'm  not." 

31 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    ffih  eels 

"  This  trip/'  said  Harris,  "  is  going  to  be 
expensive." 

"It  was  an  idiotic  suggestion/'  I  said,  "  from 
the  beginning." 

"  It  was  foolish  of  us  to  listen  to  him,"  said 
Harris;  "he'll  get  us  into  real  trouble  one  of 
these  days." 

"  He  always  was  a  muddler,"  I  agreed. 

"  So  headstrong,"  added  Harris. 

We  heard  his  voice  at  that  moment  in  the  hall 
asking  for  letters. 

"  Better  not  say  anything  to  him,"  I  suggested  ; 
"  it 's  too  late  to  go  back  now." 

"  There  would  be  no  advantage  in  doing  so," 
replied  Harris ;  "  I  should  have  to  get  that  bath- 
room and  piano  in  any  case  now." 

He  came  in  looking  very  cheerful. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "is  it  all  right?  Have  you 
managed  it  ? " 

There  was  tha.t  about  his  tone  I  did  not  alto- 
gether like ;  I  noticed  Harris  resented  it  also. 

"  Managed  what  ?  "   I  said. 

"  Why,  to  get  off,"  said  George. 

I  felt  the  time  was  come  to  explain  things  to 
George. 

"  In  married  life,"  I  said,  "the  man  proposes, 
the  woman  submits.  It  is  her  duty  ;  all  religion 
teaches  it." 

George  folded  his  hands  and  fixed  his  eyes  on 
the  ceiling. 

32 


Subjugation   of  Ethelbertha 

"We  may  chaff  and  joke  a  little  about  these 
things,"  I  continued,  "  but  when  it  comes  to  prac- 
tice, that  is  what  always  happens.  We  have  men- 
tioned to  Ethelbertha  and  to  Clara  that  we  are 
going;  naturally,  they  are  grieved;  they  would 
prefer  to  come  with  us ;  failing  that,  they  would 
have  us  remain  with  them.  But  we  have  ex- 
plained to  them  our  wishes  on  the  subject,  and  — 
there's  an  end  of  the  matter." 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  George,  "  I  did  not  under- 
stand. I  am  only  a  bachelor.  People  tell  me 
this,  that  and  the  other,  and  I  listen." 

I  said  :  "  That  is  where  you  do  wrong.  When 
you  want  information,  come  to  Harris  or  my- 
self; we  will  tell  you  the  truth  about  these 
matters." 

George  thanked  us,  and  we  proceeded  with  the 
business  in  hand. 

"When  shall  we  start?"  said  George. 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  replied  Harris, 
"  the  sooner  the  better." 

His  idea,  I  fancy,  was  to  get  away  before  Mrs. 
H.  thought  of  other  things.  We  fixed  the  fol- 
lowing Wednesday. 

"  What  about  route  ?  "  asked  Harris. 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  said  George.  "  I  take  it  you 
,fellows  are  naturally  anxious  to  improve  your 
minds." 

I  said  :  "  We  don't  want  to  become  monstros- 
ities ;  to  a  reasonable  degree,  yes,  if  it  can  be  done 
3  33 


Th  r  e  e   M  en   on    IFh  eel 


without  much  expense   and  with   little  personal 
trouble." 

"  It  can/'  said  George.  "  We  know  Holland 
and  the  Rhine.  Very  well  ;  my  suggestion  is  that 
we  take  the  boat  to  Hamburg,  see  Berlin  and 
Dresden,  and  work  our  way  to  the  Forest  through 
Nuremberg  and  Stuttgart." 

"  There  are  some  pretty  bits  in  Mesopotamia, 
so  I  've  been  told,"  murmured  Harris. 

George  said  Mesopotamia  was  too  much  out  of 
our  way,  but  that  the  Berlin-Dresden  route  was 
quite  practicable.  For  good  or  evil  he  persuaded 
us  into  it. 

"  The  machines,  I  suppose,"  said  George,  "  will 
be  as  before  ;  Harris  and  I  on  the  tandem,  J.  -  " 

"  I  think  not,"  interrupted  Harris  firmly  ;  "  you 
and  J.  on  the  tandem,  I  on  the  single." 

"  All  the  same  to  me,"  agreed  George.  "  J. 
and  I  on  the  tandem,  Harris  -  " 

"  I  do  not  mind  taking  my  turn,"  I  interrupted, 
"  but  I  am  not  going  to  carry  George  all  the  way  ; 
the  burden  should  be  divided." 

"  Very  well,"  agreed  Harris,  "  we  '11  divide  it. 
But  it  must  be  on  the  distinct  understanding  that 
he  works." 

"  That  he  what  ?  "  said  George. 

"  That  he  works,"  repeated  Harris  firmly  ;  "  at 
all  events,  uphill." 

"  Great  Scott!  "  said  George  ;  "  don't  you  want 
any  exercise  ?  " 

34 


Subjugation   of  Ethel  bertha 

There  is  always  unpleasantness  about  this  tan- 
dem. It  is  the  theory  of  the  man  in  front  that 
the  man  behind  does  nothing ;  it  is  equally  the 
theory  of  the  man  behind  that  he  alone  is  the 
motive  power,  the  man  in  front  merely  doing 
the  puffing.  The  mystery  will  never  be  solved. 
It  is  annoying  when  Prudence  is  whispering  to 
you  on  the  one  side  not  to  overdo  your  strength 
and  bring  on  heart  disease ;  while  Justice  into 
the  other  ear  is  remarking,  "  Why  should  you 
do  it  all?  This  isn't  a  cab.  He's  not  your 
passenger "  ;  to  hear  him  grunt  out :  "  What 's 
the  matter  —  lost  your  pedals  ?  " 

Harris  in  his  early  married  days  made  much 
trouble  for  himself  on  one  occasion  owing  to 
this  impossibility  of  knowing  what  the  person 
behind  is  doing.  He  was  riding  with  his  wife 
through  Holland.  The  roads  were  stony  and 
the  machine  jumped  a  good  deal. 

"  Sit  tight,"  said  Harris  without  turning  his 
head. 

What  Mrs.  Harris  thought  he  said  was  "jump 
off."  Why  she  should  have  thought  he  said 
"jump  off"  when  he  said  "  sit  tight "  neither  of 
them  can  explain. 

Mrs.  Harris  puts  it  this  way :  "  If  you  had 
said  c  sit  tight,'  why  should  I  have  jumped 
off?" 

Harris  puts  it:  "  If  I  had  wanted  you  to  jump 
off  why  should  I  have  said  c  sit  tight '  ?  " 

35 


r  e  e   M  e  n   o  n    ff^b  eel 


The  bitterness   is  past,  but  they  argue   about 
the  matter  to  this  day. 

Be  the  explanation  what  it  may,  however, 
nothing  alters  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Harris  did 
jump  off,  while  Harris  pedalled  away  hard  under 
the  impression  she  was  still  behind  him.  It 
appears  that  at  first  she  thought  he  was  riding 
up  the  hill  merely  to  show  off.  They  were  both 
young  in  those  days,  and  he  used  to  do  that  sort 
of  thing.  She  expected  him  to  spring  to  earth 
on  reaching  the  summit  and  lean  in  a  careless 
and  graceful  attitude  against  the  machine  waiting 
for  her.  When  on  the  contrary  she  saw  him 
pass  the  summit  and  proceed  rapidly  down  a 
long  and  steep  incline  she  was  seized,  first  with 
surprise,  secondly  with  indignation,  and  lastly 
with  alarm.  She  ran  to  the  top  of  the  hill  and 
shouted  ;  but  he  never  turned  his  head.  She 
watched  him  disappear  into  a  wood  a  mile  and 
a  half  distant  and  then  sat  down  and  cried. 
They  had  had  a  slight  difference  that  morning, 
and  she  wondered  if  he  had  taken  it  seriously 
and  intended  desertion.  She  had  no  money  ; 
she  knew  no  Dutch.  People  passed,  and  seemed 
sorry  for  her  ;  she  tried  to  make  them  under- 
stand what  had  happened.  They  gathered  that 
she  had  lost  something,  but  could  not  grasp 
what.  They  took  her  to  the  nearest  village  and 
found  a  policeman  for  her.  He  concluded  from 
her  pantomime  that  some  man  had  stolen  her 

36 


Subjugation   of  Ethel  bertha 

bicycle.  They  put  the  telegraph  into  operation, 
and  discovered  in  a  village  four  miles  off  an  un- 
fortunate boy  riding  a  lady's  machine  of  an  obso- 
lete pattern.  They  brought  him  to  her  in  a 
cart,  but  as  she  did  not  appear  to  want  either 
him  or  his  bicycle  they  let  him  go  again,  and 
resigned  themselves  to  bewilderment. 

Meanwhile  Harris  continued  his  ride  with 
much  enjoyment.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
suddenly  become  a  stronger  and  in  every  way  a 
more  capable  cyclist.  Said  he  to  what  he  thought 
was  Mrs.  Harris  : 

"  I  haven't  felt  this  machine  so  light  for 
months.  It's  this  air,  I  think;  it's  doing  me 
good." 

Then  he  told  her  not  to  be  afraid,  and  he 
would  show  her  how  fast  he  could  go.  He  bent 
down  over  the  handles  and  put  his  heart  into  his 
work.  The  bicycle  bounded  over  the  road  like 
a  thing  of  life;  farmhouses  and  churches,  dogs 
and  chickens  came  to  him  and  passed.  Old  folks 
stood  and  gazed  at  him ;  the  children  cheered 
him. 

In  this  way  he  sped  merrily  onward  for  ab%out 
five  miles.  Then,  as  he  explains  it,  the  feeling 
began  to  grow  upon  him  that  something  was 
wrong.  He  was  not  surprised  at  the  silence ;  the 
wind  was  blowing  strongly,  and  the  machine  was 
rattling  a  good  deal.  It  was  a  sense  of  void  that 
came  upon  him.  He  stretched  out  his  hand 

37 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    tt^h  eels 

behind  him,  'and  felt ;  there  was  nothing  there 
but  space.  He  jumped  or  rather  fell  off,  and 
looked  back  up  the  road ;  it  stretched  white  and 
straight  through  the  dark  wood,  and  not  a  living 
soul  could  he  see  upon  it.  He  remounted,  and 
rode  back  up  the  hill.  In  ten  minutes  he  came 
to  where  the  road  broke  into  four ;  there  he 
dismounted  and  tried  to  remember  which  fork 
he  had  come  down.  While  he  was  deliberating 
a  man  passed,  sitting  sideways  on  a  horse.  Har- 
ris stopped  him,  and  explained  to  him  that  he 
had  lost  his  wife.  The  man  appeared  to  be 
neither  surprised  nor  sorry  for  him.  While  they 
were  talking  another  farmer  came  along,  to  whom 
the  first  man  explained  the  matter,  not  as  an 
accident  but  as  a  good  story.  What  appeared 
to  surprise  the  second  man  most  was  that  Harris 
should  be  making  a  fuss  about  the  thing.  He 
could  get  no  sense  out  of  either  of  them,  and 
cursing  them  for  a  couple  of  idiots  he  mounted 
his  machine  again  and  took  the  middle  road  on 
chance.  Halfway  up  he  came  upon  a  party  of 
two  young  women  with  one  man  between  them. 
They  appeared  to  be  making  the  most  of  him. 
He  asked  them  if  they  had  seen  his  wife.  They 
asked  him  what  she  was  like.  He  did  not  know 
enough  Dutch  to  describe  her  properly ;  all  he 
could  tell  them  was  she  was  a  very  beautiful 
woman  of  medium  size.  Evidently  this  did  not 
satisfy  them ;  the  description  was  too  general ; 

38 


Subjugation   of  ILthelbertha 

any  man  could  say  that  and  by  this  means  per- 
haps get  possession  of  a  wife  that  did  not  belong 
to  him.  They  asked  him  how  she  was  dressed ; 
for  the  life  of  him  he  could  not  recollect.  I 
doubt  if  any  man  could  tell  how  any  woman  was 
dressed  ten  minutes  after  he  had  left  her.  He 
recollected  a  blue  skirt  and  then  there  was  some- 
thing that  carried  the  dress  on,  as  it  were,  up  to 
the  neck.  Possibly  this  may  have  been  a  blouse  ; 
he  retained  a  dim  vision  of  a  belt ;  but  what  sort 
of  a  blouse  ?  Was  it  green,  or  yellow,  or  blue  ? 
Had  it  a  collar  or  was  it  fastened  with  a  bow? 
Were  there  feathers  in  her  hat,  or  flowers?  Or 
was  it  a  hat  at  all  ?  He  dared  not  say  for  fear 
of  making  a  mistake  and  being  sent  miles  after 
the  wrong  party.  The  two  young  women  gig- 
gled, which  in  his  then  state  of  mind  irritated 
Harris.  The  young  man,  who  appeared  anxious 
to  get  rid  of  him,  suggested  the  police  station  at 
the  next  town.  Harris  made  his  way  there. 
The  police  gave  him  a  piece  of  paper,  and  told 
him  to  write  down  a  full  description  of  his  wife, 
together  with  details  of  when  and  where  he  had 
lost  her.  He  did  not  know  where  he  had  lost  her; 
all  he  could  tell  them  was  the  name  of  the  village 
where  he  had  lunched.  He  knew  he  had  her  with 
him  then,  and  that  they  had  started  from  there 
together.  The  police  looked  suspicious ;  they 
were  doubtful  about  three  matters ;  First,  was 
she  really  his  wife?  Second,  had  he  really  lost 

39 


T*h  r  e  e   M  en   on    ff^b  eels 

her?  Third,  why  had  he  lost  her?  With  the 
aid  of  a  hotel-keeper,  however,  who  spoke  a  little 
English,  he  overcame  their  scruples.  They 
promised  to  act,  and  in  the  evening  they  brought 
her  to  him  in  a  covered  wagon,  together  with  a 
bill  for  expenses.  The  meeting  was  not  a  tender 
one.  Mrs.  Harris  is  not  a  good  actress,  and 
always  has  great  difficulty  in  disguising  her  feel- 
ings ;  on  this  occasion,  she  frankly  admits,  she 
made  no  attempt  to  disguise  them. 

The  wheel  business  settled,  there  arose  the 
everlasting  luggage  question. 

"  The  usual  list,  I  suppose,"  said  George,  pre- 
paring to  write. 

That  was  wisdom  I  had  taught  them ;  I  had 
learned  it  myself  years  ago  from  my  Uncle 
Podger. 

"  Always  before  beginning  to  pack,"  my 
Uncle  would  say,  "  make  a  list." 

He  was  a  methodical  man. 

"  Take  a  piece  of  paper  "  -7-  he  always  began 
at  the  beginning  — "  put  down  on  it  everything 
you  can  possibly  require  ;  then  go  over  it  and 
see  that  it  contains  nothing  you  can  possibly  do 
without.  Imagine  yourself  in  bed  ;  what  have 
you  got  on  ?  Very  well,  put  it  down  —  together 
with  a  change.  You  get  up  ;  what  do  you  do  ? 
Wash  yourself.  What  do  you  wash  yourself 
with  ?  Soap ;  put  down  soap.  Go  on  till  you 
have  finished.  Then  take  your  clothes.  Begin 

40 


Subjugation   of  Ethel  bertha 

at  your  feet :  what  do  you  wear  on  your  feet  ? 
Boots,  shoes,  socks  :  put  them  down.  Work  up 
till  you  get  to  your  head.  What  else  do  you 
want  besides  clothes  ?  A  little  brandy :  put  it 
down.  A  corkscrew  —  put  it  down.  Put  down 
everything,  then  you  don't  forget  anything." 

That  is  the  plan  he  always  pursued  himself. 
The  list  made,  he  would  go  over  it  carefully,  as 
he  always  advised,  to  see  that  he  had  forgotten 
nothing.  Then  he  would  go  over  it  again,  and 
strike  out  everything  it  was  possible  to  dispense 
with.  Then  he  would  lose  the  list. 

Said  George  :  "  Just  sufficient  for  a  day  or  two 
we  will  take  with  us  on  our  bikes.  The  bulk  of 
our  luggage  we  must  send  on  from  town  to  town." 

"  We  must  be  careful,"   I   said.     "  I  knew  a 


man  once 


Harris  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  We  '11  hear  about  him  on  the  boat,"  said 
Harris  ;  "  I  have  got  to  meet  Clara  at  Waterloo 
Station  in  half  an  hour." 

"  It  won't  take  half  an  hour,"  I  said ;  "  it 's  a 
true  story,  and " 

"  Don't  waste  it,"  said  George ;  "  I  am  told 
there  are  rainy  evenings  in  the  Black  Forest ; 
we  may  be  glad  of  it.  What  we  have  to  do  now 
is  to  finish  this  list." 

Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  never  did  get 
off  that  story ;  something  always  interrupted  it. 
And  it  really  was  true. 

41 


III.  — THE   BICYCLE   DOCTOR 
OF   FOLKESTONE 

ON     MONDAY     afternoon     Harris 
came    around.      He    had    a    cycling 
paper  in  his  hand. 
I   said :  "  If  you  take  my  advice, 
you  will  leave  it  alone." 
Harris  said  :  "  Leave  what  alone  ?  " 
I   said  :  "  That   brand-new,  patent  revolution 
in  cycling,  record-breaking  tomfoolishness,  what- 
ever it  may  be,  the  advertisement  of  which  you 
have  there  in  your  hand." 

He  said  :  "  Well,  I  don't  know ;  there  will 
be  some  steep  hills  for  us  to  negotiate  ;  I  guess 
we  shall  want  a  good  brake." 

I  said :  "  We  shall  want  a  brake,  I  agree ; 
what  we  shall  not  want  is  a  mechanical  surprise 
that  we  don't  understand,  and  that  never  acts 
when  it  is  wanted." 

"  This  thing,"  he  said,  "  acts  automatically." 
"You  need  n't  tell  me,"  I  said  ;  "  I  know  by  in- 
stinct exactly  what  it  will  do.  Going  uphill  it  will 
jam  the  wheel  so  effectively  that  we  shall  have  to 
carry  the  machine  bodily.  The  air  at  the  top  of 
the  hill  will  do  it  good,  and  it  will  suddenly  come 
right  again.  Going  downhill  it  will  start  reflecting 
what  a  nuisance  it  has  been.  This  will  lead  to 

42 


Bicycle  Doctor   of  Folkestone 

remorse,  and  finally  to  despair.  It  will  say  to 
itself:  £  I  'm  not  fit  to  be  a  brake.  I  don't  help 
these  fellows  ;  I  only  hinder  them.  I  'm  a  curse, 
that  's  what  I  am/  And  without  a  word  of 
warning  it  will  chuck  the  whole  business.  That 
is  what  that  brake  will  do.  Leave  it  alone. 
You  are  a  good  fellow/*  I  continued,  "  but  you 
have  one  fault." 

"  What  ?  "  he  asked  indignantly. 

"  You  have  too  much  faith,"  I  answered.  "If 
you  read  an  advertisement  you  go  away  and 
believe  it.  Every  experiment  that  every  fool 
has  thought  of  in  connection  with  cycling  you 
have  tried.  Your  Guardian  Angel  appears  to  be 
a  capable  and  conscientious  spirit,  and  hitherto 
she  has  seen  you  through  ;  take  my  advice  and 
don't  try  her  too  far.  She  must  have  had  a  busy 
time  since  you  started  cycling.  Don't  go  on  till 
you  make  her  mad." 

He  said  :  "  If  every  man  talked  like  that  there 
would  be  no  advancement  made  in  any  depart- 
ment of  life.  If  nobody  ever  tried  a  new  thing  the 
world  would  come  to  a  standstill.  It  is  by " 

"  I  know  all  that  can  be  said  on  that  side  of 
the  argument,"  I  interrupted.  "  I  agree  in  trying 
new  experiments  up  to  thirty-five  ;  after  thirty- 
five  I  consider  a  man  is  entitled  to  think  of  him- 
self. You  and  I  have  done  our  duty  in  this 
direction  —  you,  especially.  You  have  been 

blown  up  by  a  patent  gas  lamp " 

43 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

He  said :  "  I  really  think,  you  know,  that  was 
my  fault ;  I  think  I  must  have  screwed  it  up  too 

tight.-; 

I  said  :  cc  I  am  quite  willing  to  believe  that  if 
there  was  a  wrong  way  of  handling  the  thing  that 
is  the  way  you  handled  it.  You  should  take 
that  tendency  of  yours  into  consideration ;  it 
bears  upon  the  argument.  Myself,  I  did  not 
notice  what  you  did ;  I  only  know  we  were 
riding  peacefully  and  pleasantly  along  the 
Whitby  Road,  dismissing  the  Thirty  Years'  War, 
when  your  lamp  wjnt  off  like  a  pistol  shot.  The 
start  sent  me  into^the  ditch,  and  your  wife's  face 
when  I  told  her  there  was  nothing  the  matter 
and  that  she  was  not  to  worry,  because  the  two 
men  would  carry  you  upstairs,  and  the  doctor 
would  be  around  in  a  minute,  bringing  the  nurse 
with  him,  still  lingers  in  my  memory." 

He  said  :  "  I  wish  you  had  thought  to  pick 
up  the  lamp.  I  should  like  to  have  found 
out  what  was  the  cause  of  its  going  off  like 
that." 

I  said :  "  There  was  not  time  to  pick  up  the 
lamp.  I  calculate  it  would  have  taken  two  hours 
to  have  collected  it.  As  to  its  c  going  off/  the 
mere  fact  of  its  being  advertised  as  the  safest  lamp 
ever  invented  would  of  itself,  to  any  one  but  you, 
have  suggested  accident. 

"  Then  there  was  that  electric  lamp,"  I 
continued. 

44 


Bicycle  Doctor  of  Folkestone 

"Well,  that  really  did  give  a  fine  light/'  he 
replied  ;  "  you  said  so  yourself." 

I  said  :  "  It  gave  a  brilliant  light  in  the  King's 
Road,  Brighton,  and  frightened  a  horse.  The 
moment  we  got  into  the  dark  beyond  Kemp 
Town  it  went  out,  and  you  were  summoned  for 
riding  without  a  light.  You  may  remember  that 
on  sunny  afternoons  you  used  to  ride  about  with 
that  lamp  shining  for  all  it  was  worth.  When 
lighting-up  time  came  it  was  naturally  tired,  and 
wanted  a  rest." 

"It  was  a  bit  irritating,  that  lamp,"  he  mur- 
mured ;  "  I  remember  it." 

I  said :  "  It  irritated  me  ;  it  must  have  been 
worse  for  you. 

"  Then  there  are  saddles,"  I  went  on.  I 
wished  to  get  this  lesson  home  to  him.  "  Can 
you  think  of  any  saddle  ever  advertised  that  you 
have  not  tried  ?  " 

He  said :  "It  has  always  been  an  idea  of  mine 
that  the  right  saddle  is  to  be  found." 

I  said  :  "  You  give  up  that  idea  ;  this  is  an  im- 
perfect world,  a  world  of  joy  and  sorrow  mingled. 
There  may  be  a  Better  Land  where  bicycle 
saddles  are  made  out  of  rainbow,  stuffed  with 
cloud ;  in  this  world  the  simplest  thing  is  to 
get  used  to  something  hard.  There  was  that 
saddle  you  bought  in  Birmingham ;  it  was 
divided  in  the  middle,  and  looked  like  a  pair 
of  kidneys." 

45 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    If^h  eels 

He  said :  "  You  mean  that  one  constructed  on 
anatomical  principles." 


George 

"Very  likely,"  I  replied.  "The  box  you 
bought  it  in  had  a  picture  on  the  cover  represent- 
ing a  sitting  skeleton  —  or  rather  that  part  of  a 
skeleton  which  does  sit." 

46 


Bicycle   Doctor  of  Folkestone 


He  said  :  "It  was  quite  correct ;  it  showed 
you  the  true  position  of  the " 

I  said :  "  We  will  not  go  into  details ;  the 
picture  always  seemed  to  me  indelicate." 

He  said :  "  Medically  speaking,  it  was  right." 

"  Possibly,"  I  said,  "  for  a  man  who  rode  in  j[i 
nothing  but  his  bones.  I  only  know  that  I  tried 
it  myself,  and  that  to  a  man  who  wore  flesh  it  was 
agony.  Every  time  you  went  over  a  stone  or  rut 
it  nipped  you ;  it  was  like  riding  on  an  irritable 
lobster.  You  rode  that  for  a  month." 

"  I  thought  it  only  right  to  give  it  a  fair  trial," 
he  answered. 

I  said  :  "  You  gave  your  family  a  fair  trial,  also, 
if  you  will  allow  me  the  use  of  slang.  Your  wife 
told  me  that  never  in  the  whole  course  of  your 
married  life  had  she  known  you  so  bad-tempered, 
so  un-Christianlike  as  you  were  that  month. 
Then  you  remember  that  other  saddle,  the  one 
with  a  spring  under  it." 

He  said  :  "  You  mean  the  c  Spiral '  ?  " 

I  said :  "  I  mean  the  one  that  jerked  you 
up  and  down  like  a  Jack-in-the-box ;  sometimes 
you  came  down  again  in  the  right  place,  and 
sometimes  you  did  n't.  I  am  not  referring  to 
these  past  matters  merely  to  recall  painful  memo- 
ries, but  I  want  to  impress  you  with  the  folly  of 
trying  experiments  at  your  time  of  life." 

He  said :  "  I  wish  you  would  n't  harp  so  much 

on  my  age.     A  man  at  thirty-four " 

47 


Th  r  e  e   M  e  n  °o  n    Wh  eels 

"  A  man  at  what !  " 

He  said  :  "  If  you  don't  want  the  thing,  don't 
have  it.  If  your  machine  runs  away  with  you 
down  a  mountain,  and  you  and  George  get  flung 
through  a  church  roof,  don't  blame  me." 

"  I  cannot  promise  for  George/*  I  said ;  "  a 
little  thing  will  sometimes  annoy  him,  as  you 
know.  If  such  an  accident  as  you  suggest  happen, 
he  may  be  cross,  but  I  will  undertake  to  explain 
to  him  that  it  was  not  your  fault." 

"  Is  the  thing  all  right?  "  he  asked. 

"The  tandem,"  I  replied,  "is  well." 

He  said  :  "  Have  you  overhauled  it  ?  " 

I  said :  "  I  have  not,  nor  is  anybody  else 
going  to  overhaul  it.  The  thing  is  now  in  work- 
ing order,  and  it  is  going  to  remain  in  working 
order  till  we  start." 

I  have  had  experience  of  this  "  overhauling." 
There  was  a  man  at  Folkestone  ;  I  used  to  meet 
him  on  the  Lees.  He  proposed  one  evening  we 
should  go  for  a  long  bicycle  ride  together  on  the 
following  day,  and  I  agreed.  I  got  up  early,  for 
me  ;  I  made  an  effort,  and  was  pleased  with  myself. 
He  came  half  an  hour  late;  I  was  waiting  for  him 
in  the  garden.  It  was  a  lovely  day.  He  said  : 

"  That 's  a  good-looking  machine  of  yours. 
How  does  it  run  ?  " 

"Oh,  like  most  of  them,"  I  answered;  "easily 
enough  in  the  morning ;  goes  a  little  stiffly  after 
lunch." 

48 


Bicycle  Doctor  of  Folkestone 

He  caught  hold  of  it  by  the  front  wheel  and 
the  fork  and  shook  it  violently. 

I  said  :  "  Don't  do  that ;  you  '11  hurt  it." 

I  did  not  see  why  he  should  shake  it ;  it  had 
not  done  anything  to  him.  Besides,  if  it  wanted 
shaking,  I  was  the  proper  person  to  shake  it.  I 
felt  much  as  I  should  if  he  had  started  whacking 
my  dog. 

He  said  :  "  This  front  wheel  wobbles." 

I  said  :  "  It  does  n't  if  you  don't  wobble  it." 
It  did  n't  wobble,  as  a  matter  of  fact  —  nothing 
worth  calling  a  wobble. 

He  said :  "  This  is  dangerous ;  have  you  got 
a  screw-hammer  ?  " 

I  ought  to  have  been  firm,  but  I  thought  that 
perhaps  he  really  did  know  something  about  the 
business.  I  went  to  the  toolshed  to  see  what  I 
could  find.  When  I  came  back  he  was  sitting 
on  the  ground  with  the  front  wheel  between  his 
legs.  He  was  playing  with  it,  twiddling  it  round 
between  his  fingers ;  the  remnant  of  the  machine 
was  lying  on  the  gravel  path  beside  him. 

He  said :  "  Something  has  happened  to  this 
front  wheel  of  yours." 

"  It  looks  like  it,  does  n  't  it  ? "  I  answered. 
But  he  was  the  sort  of  man  that  never  under- 
stands satire. 

He  said  :  a  It  looks  to  me  as  if  the  bearings 
were  all  wrong." 

I  said  :  "  Don't  you  trouble  about  it  any  more  ; 
4  49 


Three  Men  on   Wheels 

you  will  make  yourself  tired.  Let  us  put  it  back 
and  get  off/* 

He  said  :  u  We  may  as  well  see  what  is  the 
matter  with  it,  now  it  is  out."  He  talked  as 
though  it  had  dropped  out  by  accident. 

Before  I  could  stop  him  he  had  unscrewed 
something  somewhere,  and  out  rolled  all  over  the 
path  a  lot  of  little  balls. 

"Catch  'em!"  he  shouted.  "Catch  'em ! 
We  must  n't  lose  any  of  them  !  "  He  was  quite 
excited  about  them. 

We  grovelled  around  for  half  an  hour  and  found 
sixteen.  He  said  he  hoped  we  had  got  them  all, 
because  if  not  it  would  make  a  serious  difference 
in  the  machine.  He  said  there  was  nothing  you 
should  be  more  careful  about  in  taking  a  bicycle 
to  pieces  than  seeing  you  did  not  lose  any  of  the 
balls.  He  explained  that  you  ought  to  count 
them  as  you  took  them  out,  and  see  that  exactly 
the  same  number  went  back  in  each  place.  I 
promised,  if  ever  I  took  a  bicycle  to  pieces,  I 
would  remember  his  advice. 

I  put  the  balls  for  safety  in  my  hat,  and  I  put 
my  hat  upon  the  doorstep.  It  was  not,  the  sensi- 
ble thing  to  do,  I  admit.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it 
was  a  silly  thing  to  do.  I  am  not  as  a  rule,  addle- 
headed  ;  his  influence  must  have  affected  me. 

He  then  said  that  while  he  was  about  it  he 
would  see  to  the  chain  for  me,  and  at  once  began 
taking  off  the  gearca'se.  I  did  try  to  dissuade 

5° 


Bicycle  Doctor  of  Folkestone 

him  from  that.     I  told  him  what  an  experienced 
friend  of  mine  once  said  to  me,  solemnly: 

"  If  anything  goes  wrong  with  your  gearcase, 
sell  the  machine  and  buy  a  new  one.  It  comes 
cheaper." 

He  said :  "  People  talk  like  that  who  under- 
stand nothing  about  machines.  Nothing  is  easier 
than  taking  off  a  gearcase." 

I  had  to  confess  he  was  right.  In  less  than 
five  minutes  he  had  the  gearcase  in  two  pieces 
lying  on  the  path,  and  was  grovelling  for  screws. 
He  said  it  was  always  a  mystery  to  him  the  way 
screws  disappeared.  We  were  still  looking  for 
the  screws  when  •  Ethelbertha  came  out.  She 
seemed  surprised  to  find  us  there ;  she  said  she 
thought  we  had  started  hours  ago. 

He  said  :  "  We  sha'  n't  be  long  now.  I  'm  just 
helping  your  husband  to  overhaul  this  machine 
of  his.  It 's  a  good  machine,  but  they  all  want 
going  over  occasionally." 

Ethelbertha  said  :  "If  you  want  to  wash  your- 
selves when  you  have  done  you  might  go  into 
the  back  kitchen,  if  you  don't  mind ;  the  girls 
have  just  finished  the  bedrooms." 

She  told  me  that  if  she  met  Kate  they  would 
probably  go  for  a  sail,  but  that  in  any  case  she 
would  be  back  to  lunch.  I  would  have  given  a 
sovereign  to  be  going  with  her.  I  was  getting 
heartily  sick  of  standing  about  watching  this  fool 
breaking  up  my  bicycle. 

51 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

Common  sense  continued  to  whisper  to  me, 
"  Stop  him  before  he  does  any  more  mischief; 
you  have  a  right  to  protect  your  own  property 
from  the  ravages  of  a  lunatic ;  take  him  by  the 
scruff  of  the  neck  and  kick  him  out  of  the  gate." 

But  I  am  weak  when  it  comes  to  hurting  other 
people's  feelings,  and  1  let  him  muddle  on. 

He  gave  up  looking  for  the  rest  of  the  screws. 
He  said  screws  had  a  knack  of  turning  up  when 
you  least  expected  them,  and  that  now  he  would 
see  to  the  chain.  He  tightened  it  till  it  would 
not  move  ;  next  he  loosened  it  until  it  was  twice 
as  loose  as  it  was  before.  Then  he  said  we  had 
better  think  about  getting  the  front  wheel  back 
into  its  place  again. 

I  held  the  fork  open,  and  he  worried  with  the 
wheel.  At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  I  suggested 
he  should  hold  the  forks  and  that  I  should 
handle  the  wheel,  and  we  changed  places.  At  the 
end  of  his  first  minute  he  dropped  the  machine 
and  took  a  short  walk  around  the  croquet  lawn 
with  his  hands  pressed  together  between  his 
thighs.  He  explained  as  he  walked  that  the 
thing  to  be  careful  about  was  to  avoid  getting 
your  fingers  pinched  between  the  forks  and  the 
spokes  of  the  wheel.  I  replied  I  was  convinced, 
from  my  own  experience,  that  there  was  much 
truth  in  what  he  said.  He  wrapped  himself  up 
in  a  couple  of  dusters  and  we  commenced  again. 
At  length  we  did  get  the  thing  into  position  and 

52 


Bicycle  Doctor  of  Folkestone 

the    moment   it    was    in    position    he   burst  out 
laughing. 


" Etbelbtrtha  came  out" 

I  said:  "What's  the  joke?" 
He  said :  "Well,  I  am  an  ass  !  " 
It  was  the  first  thing  he  had  said  that  made 
53 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  ee 


me  respect  him.  I  asked  him  what  had  led  him 
to  the  discovery. 

He  said  :  "  We've  forgotten  the  balls  !  " 

I  looked  for  my  hat;  it  was  lying  topsyturvy 
in  the  middle  of  the  path,  and  Ethelbertha's 
favourite  hound  was  swallowing  the  balls  as  fast 
as  he  could  pick  them  up. 

"He  will  kill  himself"  said  Ebbson—  I  have 
never  met  him  since  that  day,  thank  the  Lord, 
but  I  think  his  name  was  Ebbson  —  "  they  are 
solid  steel." 

I  said  :  "  I  am  not  troubling  about  the  dog. 
He  has  had  a  bootlace  and  a  packet  of  needles 
already  this  week.  Nature  's  the  best  guide  ; 
puppies  seem  to  require  this  kind  of  stimulant. 
What  I  am  thinking  about  is  my  bicycle.'' 

He  was  of  a  cheerful  disposition.  He  said  : 
"  Well,  we  must  put  back  all  we  can  find  and 
trust  to  Providence." 

We  found  eleven.  We  fixed  six  on  one  side 
and  five  on  the  other,  and  half  an  hour  later  the 
wheel  was  in  its  place  again.  It  need  hardly  be 
added  that  it  really  did  wobble  now;  a  child 
might  have  noticed  it.  Ebbson  said  it  would  do 
for  the  present.  He  appeared  to  be  getting  a 
bit  tired  himself;  if  I  had  let  him  he  would,  I 
believe,  at  this  point,  have  gone  home.  I  was 
determined  now,  however,  that  he  should  stop 
and  finish.  I  had  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  a 
ride.  My  pride  in  the  machine  he  had  killed. 

54 


u  Then  he  lost  his  temper  and  tried  bullying  the  thing  " 


Bicycle  Doctor   of  Folkestone 

My  only  interest  lay  now  in  seeing  him  scratch, 
and  bump,  and  pinch  himself.  I  revived  his 
drooping  spirits  with  a  glass  of  beer  and  some 
judicious  praise.  I  said  : 

"  Watching  you  do  this  is  of  real  use  to  me. 
It  is  not  only  your  skill  and  dexterity  that  fasci- 
nates me ;  it  is  your  cheery  confidence  in  your- 
self, your  inexplicable  hopefulness,  that  does  me 
good." 

Thus  encouraged,  he  set  to  work  to  refix  the 
gearcase.  He  stood  the  bicycle  up  against  the 
house  and  worked  from  the  off-side.  Then  he 
stood  it  against  a  tree  and  worked  from  the  near 
side.  Then  I  held  it  for  him  while  he  lay  on 
the  ground  with  his  head  between  the  wheels  and 
worked  at  it  from  below,  and  dropped  oil  upon 
himself.  Then  he  took  it  away  from  me  and 
doubled  himself  across  it,  like  a  pack-saddle,  till 
he  lost  his  balance  and  slid  over  onto  his  head. 
Three  times  he  said : 

"  Thank  Heaven,  that 's  right  at  last !"  ' 

And  twice  he  said  : 

"  No,  I  'm  d d  if  it  is,  after  all  !  " 

What  he  said  the  third  time  I  try  to  forget. 

Then  he  lost«his  temper  and  tried  bullying  the 
thing.  The  bicycle,  I  was  glad  to  see,  showed 
spirit ;  and  the  subsequent  proceedings  degener- 
ated into  little  else  than  a  rough-and-tumble  fight 
between  him  and  the  machine.  One  moment  the 
bicycle  would  be  on  the  gravel  path  and  he  on 

55 


*Th  r  e  e   M  en   on    W^h  eels 

top  of  it ;  the  next  the  position  would  be  reversed 
—  he  on  the  gravel  path,  the  bicycle  on  him. 
Now  he  would  be  standing  flushed  with  victory, 
with  the  bicycle  firmly  fixed  between  his  legs. 
But  his  triumph  would  be  short-lived.  By  a 
sudden,  quick  movement  it  would  free  itself,  and 
turning  upon  him,  hit  him  sharply  over  the  head 
with  one  of  its  handles. 

At  quarter  to  one,  dirty  and  dishevelled,  cut 
and  bleeding,  he  said : 

"  I  think  that  will  do,"  and  rose  and  wiped  his 
brow. 

The  bicycle  looked  as  if  it  also  had  had  enough 
of  it.  Which  had  received  most  punishment  it 
would  be  difficult  to  say.  I  took  him  into  the 
back  kitchen,  where,  so  far  as  was  possible  with- 
out soda  and  proper  tools,  he  cleaned  himself, 
and  sent  him  home.  The  bicycle  I  put  into  a 
cab  and  took  round  to  the  nearest  repairing  shop. 
The  foreman  of  the  works  came  up  and  looked 
at  it. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  with  that  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  I  want  you,"  I  said,  "  so  far  as  is  possible,  to 
restore  it." 

"  It 's  a  bit  far  gone,"  said  he.  "  But  I  '11  do 
my  best." 

He  did  his  best,  which  came  to  two  pounds 
ten.  But  it  was  never  the  same  machine  again, 
and  at  the  end  of  the  season  I  left  it  in  an  agent's 

56 


Bicycle  Doctor   of  Folkestone 

hands  to  sell.  I  wished  to  deceive  nobody ;  I 
instructed  the  man  to  advertise  it  as  a  last  year's 
machine.  The  agent  advised  me  not  to  mention 
any  date.  He  said  : 

"  In  this  business  it  is  n't  a  question  of  what  is 
true  and  what  is  n't ;  it 's  a  question  of  what  you 
can  get  people  to  believe.  Now,  between  you 
and  me,  it  don't  look  like  a  last  year's  machine; 
so  far  as  looks  are  concerned,  it  might  be  a  ten- 
year-old.  We  '11  say  nothing  about  date  ;  we  '11 
just  get  what  we  can." 

I  left  the  matter  to  him,  and  he  got  me  five 
pounds,  which,  he  said,  was  more  than  he  had 
expected. 

There  are  two  ways  you  can  get  exercise  out  of 
a  bicycle  ;  you  can  "  overhaul  "  it,  or  you  can  ride 
it.  On  the  whole,  I  am  not  sure  that  the  man 
who  takes  his  pleasure  overhauling  does  not  have 
the  best  of  the  bargain.  He  is  independent  of  the 
weather  and  the  wind ;  the  state  of  the  roads 
troubles  him  not.  Give  him  a  screw-hammer,  a 
bundle  of  rags,  an  oil  can,  and  something  to  sit 
down  upon,  and  he  is  happy  for  the  day.  He 
has  to  put  up  with  certain  disadvantages,  of  course  ; 
there  is  no  joy  without  alloy.  He  himself  always 
looks  like  a  tinker,  and  his  machine  always  sug- 
gests the  idea  that,  having  stolen  it,  he  has  tried 
to  disguise  it ;  but  as  he  rarely  gets  beyond  the 
first  milestone  with  it,  this,  perhaps,  does  not 
much  matter.  The  mistake  some  people  make  is 

57 


Th  r  e  e   M  en   on    W^h  eels 

in  thinking  they  can  get  both  forms  of  sport  out 
of  the  same  machine.  This  is  impossible ;  no 
machine  will  stand  the  double  strain.  You  must 
make  up  your  mind  whether  you  are  going  to  be 
an  "  overhauler  "  or  a  rider.  Personally,  I  prefer 
to  ride ;  therefore  I  take  care  to  have  near  me 
nothing  that  can  tempt  me  to  overhaul.  When 
anything  happens  to  my  machine  I  wheel  it  to  the 
nearest  repairing  shop.  If  I  am  too  far  from  a 
town  or  village  to  walk,  I  sit  by  the  roadside  and 
wait  till  a  cart  comes  along.  My  chief  danger,  I 
always  find,  is  from  the  wandering  overhauler. 
The  sight  of  a  broken-down  machine  is  to  the 
overhauler  as  a  wayside  corpse  to  a  crow :  he 
swoops  down  upon  it  with  a  friendly  yell  of  tri- 
umph. At  first  I  used  to  try  politeness.  I 
would  say  : 

"  It  is  nothing ;  don't  you  trouble.  You  ride 
on  and  enjoy  yourself.  I  beg  it  of  you  as  a 
favour  ;  please  go  away." 

Experience  has  taught  me,  however,  that  cour- 
tesy is  of  no  use  in  such  an  extremity.  Now  I 
say : 

"  You  go  away  and  leave  the  thing  alone,  or  I 
will  knock  your  silly  head  off." 

And  if  you  look  determined  and  have  a  good 
stout  cudgel  in  your  hand,  you  can  generally 
drive  him  off. 

George  came  in  later  in  the  day.     He  said : 

"  Well,  do  you  think  everything  will  be  ready  ?  " 
58 


Bicycle  Doctor  of  Folkestone 

I  said  :  "  Everything  will  be  ready  by  Wednes- 
day, except,  perhaps,  you  and  Harris." 

He  said  :  "  Is  the  tandem  all  right?  " 

"The  tandem,"  I  said,  "is  well." 

He  said:  "You  don't  think  it  wants  overhaul- 
ing?" 

I  replied :  "  Age  and  experience  have  taught 
me  that  there  are  few  matters  concerning  which 
a  man  does  well  to  be  positive,  consequently 
there  remain  to  me  now  but  a  limited  number 
of  questions  upon  which  I  feel  any  degree  of 
certainty. 

"  Among  such  still  unshaken  beliefs,  how- 
ever, is  that  that  the  tandem  does  not  want 
overhauling.  I  also  feel  a  conviction  that, 
provided  my  life  is  spared,  no  human  being  be- 
tween now  and  Wednesday  morning  is  going  to 
overhaul  it." 

George  said  :  "  I  should  not  show  temper  over 
the  matter  if  I  were  you.  There  will  come  a 
day,  perhaps  not  far  distant,  when  that  bicycle, 
with  a  couple  of  mountains  between  it  and  the 
nearest  repairing  shop,  will,  in  spite  of  your  chronic 
desire  for  rest,  have  to  be  overhauled.  Then  you 
will  clamour  for  people  to  tell  you  where  you  put 
the  oil  can,  and  what  you  have  done  with  the 
screw-hammer.  Then,  while  you  exert  yourself 
holding  the  thing  steady  against  a  tree,  you  will 
suggest  that  somebody  else  should  clean  the  chain 
and  pump  the  back  wheel/' 

59 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    ff^h  eels 

I  felt  there  was  justice  in  George's  rebuke  — 
also  a  certain  amount  of  prophetic  wisdom.  I 
said : 

"  Forgive  me  if  I  seemed  unresponsive.     The 

truth    is,    Harris    was    round    here    this    morn- 
•  » 

ing 


60 


IV.  — THE  AWAKENING  AT 
BEGGARBUSH 

GEORGE    came   down   on  Tuesday 
evening  and  slept  at  Harris'  place. 
We  thought  this  a  better  arrange- 
ment  than    his    own    suggestion, 
which  was  that  we  should  call  for 
him  on  our  way  and  "  pick  him  up."     Picking 
George  up  in  the  morning  means  picking  him  out 
of  bed  to  begin  with,  and  shaking  him  awake  — 
in  itself  an  exhausting  effort  with  which  to  com- 
mence the  day  ;  helping  him  find  his  things  and 
finish  his  packing,  and  then  waiting  for  him  while 
he  eats    his    breakfast,    a  tedious    entertainment 
from  the  spectator's  point  of  view,  full  of  weari- 
some repetition. 

I  knew  that  if  he  slept  at  "  Beggarbush  "  he 
would  be  up  in  time.  I  have  slept  there  myself, 
and  I  know  what  happens.  About  the  middle 
of  the  night,  as  you  judge,  though  in  reality  it 
may  be  somewhat  later,  you  are  startled  out  of 
your  first  sleep  by  what  sounds  like  a  rush  of  cav- 
alry along  the  passage  just  outside  the  door. 
Your  half-awakened  intelligence  fluctuates  be- 
tween burglars,  the  Day  of  Judgment,  and  a  gas 
explosion.  You  sit  up  in  bed  and  listen  intently. 
You  are  not  kept  waiting  long ;  the  next  moment 

61 


Three  Men  on    W^heels 

a  door  is  violently  slammed,  and  somebody  or 
something  is  evidently  coming  downstairs  on  a 
tea-tray. 

"  I  told  you  so,"  says  a  voice,  and  immediately 
some  hard  substance,  a  head,  one  would  say  from 
the  ring  of  it,  rebounds  against  the  panel  of  your 
door. 

By  this  time  you  are  charging  madly  around 
the  room  for  your  clothes.  Nothing  is  where 
you  put  it  overnight ;  the  articles  most  essential 
have  disappeared  entirely  ;  and  meanwhile  the 
murder,  or  revolution,  or  whatever  it  is,  continues 
unchecked.  You  pause  for  a  moment  with  your 
head  under  the  wardrobe,  where  you  think  you 
can  see  your  slippers,  to  listen  to  a  steady,  monot- 
onous thumping  upon  a  distant  door.  The  vic- 
tim, you  presume,  has  taken  refuge  there.  They 
mean  to  have  him  out  and  finish  him.  Will  you 
be  in  time  ?  The  knocking  ceases,  and  a  voice, 
sweetly  reassuring  in  its  gentle  plaintiveness,  asks 
meekly : 

"Pa,  may  I  get  up?  " 

You  do  not  hear  the  other  voice,  but  the  re- 
sponses are : 

"  No,  it  was  only  the  bath.  No,  she  ain't  really 
hurt,  only  wet,  you  know.  Yes,  ma,  I  '11  tell  'em 
what  you  say.  No,  it  was  a  pure  accident.  Yes ; 
good-night,  papa." 

Then  the  same  voice,  exerting  itself  so  as  to  be 
heard  afar,  remarks,  — 

62 


Awakening  at  Eeggarbush 

"  We  've  all  got  to  go  upstairs  again.  Pa  says 
it  is  n't  time  yet  to  get  up." 

You  return  to  bed,  and  lie  listening  to  some- 
body's being  dragged  upstairs,  evidently  against 
their  will.  By  a  thoughtful  arrangement,  the 
spare  rooms  at  "  Beggarbush  "  are  exactly  under- 
neath the  nurseries.  The  same  somebody,  you 
conclude,  still  offering  strenuous  opposition,  is 
being  put  back  into  bed.  You  can  follow  the  con- 
test with  much  exactitude,  because  every  time  the 
body  is  flung  down  upon  the  spring  mattress  the 
bedstead,  just  above  your  head,  makes  a  sort  of 
jump ;  while  every  time  the  body  succeeds  in 
struggling  out  again  you  are  made  aware  by  the 
thud  upon  the  floor.  After  a  time  the  struggle 
wanes,  or  maybe  the  bed  collapses,  and  you  drift 
back  into  sleep.  But  the  next  moment,  or  what 
seems  to  be  the  next  moment,  you  again  open 
your  eyes  under  the  consciousness  of  a  presence. 
The  door  is  being  held  ajar,  and  four  solemn 
faces,  piled  one  on  top  of  the  other,  are  peering 
at  you,  as  though  you  were  some  natural  curiosity 
kept  in  this  particular  room.  Seeing  you  awake, 
the  top  face,  walking  calmly  over  the  other  three, 
comes  in  and  sits  on  the  bed  in  a  friendly  attitude. 

"Oh,"  it  says,  "we  didn't  know  you  were 
awake.  I  Ve  been  awake  some  time." 

"So  I  gather,"  you  reply  shortly. 

"  Pa  doesn't  like  us  to  get  up  too  early,"  it 
continues ;  "  he  says  everybody  else  in  the  house 

63 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    tf^b  eels 

is  liable  to  be  disturbed  if  we  get  up.  So  of 
course  we  must  n't." 

The  tone  is  that  of  gentle  resignation.  It  is 
instinct  with  the  spirit  of  virtuous  pride,  arising 
from  the  consciousness  of  self-sacrifice. 

"  Don't  you  call  this  being  up  ?  "  you  suggest. 

"  Oh,  no ;  we  're  not  really  up,  you  know, 
because  we  're  not  properly  dressed."  The  fact 
is  self-evident.  "  Pa 's  always  very  tired  in  the 
morning,"  the  voice  continues  ;  "  of  course,  that 's 
because  he  works  hard  all  day.  Are  you  ever 
tired  in  the  morning  ?  " 

At  this  point  he  turns  and  notices  for  the  first 
time  that  the  three  other  children  have  also 
entered,  and  are  sitting  in  a  semi-circle  on  the 
floor.  From  their  attitude  it  is  clear  they  have 
mistaken  the  whole  thing  for  one  of  the  slower 
forms  of  entertainment,  some  comic  lecture  or  con- 
juring exhibition,  and  are  waiting  patiently  for  you 
to  get  out  of  bed  and  do  something.  It  shocks 
him,  the  idea  of  their  being  in  the  guest's  bed- 
chamber. He  peremptorily  orders  them  out. 
They  do  not  answer  him  ;  they  do  not  argue ;  in 
dead  silence  and  with  one  accord  they  fall  upon 
him.  All  you  can  see  from  the  bed  is  a  confused 
tangle  of  waving  arms  and  legs,  suggestive  of  an 
intoxicated  octopus  trying  to  find  bottom.  Not 
a  word  is  spoken  ;  that  seems  to  be  the  etiquette 
of  the  thing.  If  you  are  sleeping  in  your  paja- 
mas you  spring  from  the  bed  and  only  add  to 

64 


Awakening  at  Eeggarbush 

the  confusion  ;  if  you  are  wearing  a  less  dignified 
garment  you  stay  where  you  are  and  shout  com- 


"  The  door  is  being  held  ajar  " 

mands,  which  are  utterly  unheeded.     The  sim- 
plest   plan    is    to   leave    it   to    the    eldest    boy. 
He  does  get  them  out  after  awhile  and  closes  the 
5  65 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

door  upon  them.  It  reopens  immediately,  and 
one,  generally  Muriel,  is  shot  back  into  the  room. 
She  enters  as  from  a  catapult.  She  is  handi- 
capped by  having  long  hair,  which  can  be  used  as 
a  convenient  handle.  Evidently  aware  of  this 
natural  disadvantage,  she  clutches  it  herself 
tightly  in  one  hand  and  punches  with  the  other. 
He  opens  the  door  again  and  cleverly  uses  her  as 
a  battering-ram  against  the  wall  of  those  without. 
You  can  hear  the  dull  crash  as  her  head  enters 
among  them  and  scatters  them.  When  the 
victory  is  complete  he  comes  back  and  resumes 
his  seat  on  the  bed.  There  is  no  bitterness 
about  him  ;  he  has  forgotten  the  whole  incident. 

"  I  like  the  mornings,"  he  says  ;  "  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Some  mornings,"  you  agree,  "  are  all  right ; 
others  are  no't  so  peaceful." 

He  takes  no  notice  of  your  exception  ;  a  far- 
away look  steals  over  his  somewhat  ethereal  face. 

"  I  should  like  to  die  in  the  morning,"  he  says  ; 
"  everything  is  so  beautiful  then." 

"  Well,"  you  answer,  cc  perhaps  you  will,  if 
your  father  ever  invites  an  irritable  man  to  come 
and  sleep  here  and  does  n't  warn  him  beforehand." 

He  descends  from  his  contemplative  mood  and 
becomes  himself  again. 

"  It 's  jolly  in  the  garden,"  he  suggests  ;  "you 
would  n't  like  to  get  up  and  have  a  game  of 
cricket,  would  you  ?  " 

It  was  not  the  idea  with  which  you  went  to 
66 


Awakening   at   Beggarbush 

bed,  but  now,  as  things  have  turned  out,  it  seems 
as  good  a  plan  as  lying  there  hopelessly  awake, 
and  you  agree. 

You  learn  later  in  the  day  that  the  explanation 
of  the  proceeding  is  that  you,  unable  to  sleep,  woke 
up  early  in  the  morning  and  thought  you  would 
like  a  game  of  cricket.  The  children,  taught  to 
be  ever  courteous  to  guests,  felt  it  their  duty  to 
humour  you.  Mrs.  Harris  remarks  at  breakfast 
that  at  least  you  might  have  seen  to  it  that  the  chil- 
dren were  properly  dressed  before  you  took  them 
out ;  while  Harris  points  out  to  you  pathetically 
how,  by  your  one  morning's  example  and  encour- 
agement, you  have  undone  his  labour  of  months. 

On  this  Wednesday  morning,  George,  it  seems, 
clamoured  to  get  up  at  quarter-past  five,  and  per- 
suaded them  to  let  him  teach  them  cycling  tricks 
around  the  cucumber  frames  on  Harris's  new 
wheel.  Even  Mrs.  Harris,  however  did  not 
blame  George  on  this  occasion  ;  she  felt  intuitively 
the  idea  could  not  have  been  entirely  his. 

It  is  not  that  the  Harris  children  have  the 
faintest  notion  of  avoiding  blame  at  the  expense 
of  a  friend  and  comrade.  One  and  all,  they  are 
honesty  itself  in  accepting  responsibility  for  their 
own  misdeeds.  It  simply  is,  that  is  how  the 
thing  presents  itself  to  their  understanding. 
When  you  explain  to  them  that  you  had  no 
original  intention  of  getting  up  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning  to  play  cricket  on  the  croquet  lawn, 

67 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

or  to  mimic  the  history  of  the  early  church  by 
shooting  with  a  cross-bow  at  dolls  tied  to  a  tree  ; 
that  as  a  matter  of  fact,  left  to  your  own  initiative, 
you  would  have  slept  peacefully  till  roused  in 
Christian  fashion  with  a  cup  of  tea  at  eight,  they 
are  firstly  astonished,  secondly  apologetic,  and 
thirdly  sincerely  contrite.  In  the  present  in- 
stance, waiving  the  purely  academic  question 
whether  the  awakening  of  George  at  a  little  before 
five  was  due  to  natural  instinct  on  his  part  or  to 
the  accidental  passing  of  a  home-made  boomerang 
through  his  bedroom  window,  the  dear  children 
frankly  admitted  that  the  blame  for  his  uprising 
was  their  own.  As  the  eldest  boy  said  : 

"We  ought  to  have  remembered  Uncle  George 
had  a  long  day  before  him,  and  we  ought  to  have 
dissuaded  him  from  getting  up.  I  blame  myself 
entirely/' 

But  an  occasional  change  of  habit  does  nobody 
any  harm  ;  and  besides,  as  Harris  and  I  agreed, 
it  was  good  training  for  George.  In  the  Black 
Forest  we  would  be  up  at  five  every  morning ; 
that  we  had  determined  on.  Indeed,  George 
himself  had  suggested  half-past  four,  but  Harris 
and  I  had  argued  that  five  would  be  early  enough 
as  an  average;  that  would  enable  us  to  be  on 
our  machines  by  six,  and  to  break  the  back  of 
our  journey  before  the  heat  of  the  day  set  in. 
Occasionally  we  might  start  a  little  earlier,  but 
not  as  a  habit. 

68 


Awakening  at  Beggarbush 

I  myself  was  up  that  morning  at  five.  This 
was  earlier  than  I  had  intended.  I  had  said  to 
myself  on  going  to  sleep :  "  Six  o'clock,  sharp  !  " 

There  are  men,  I  know,  who  can  waken  them- 
selves at  any  time  to  the  minute.  They  say  to 
themselves  literally,  as  they  lay  their  heads  upon 
the  pillow :  "  Four  thirty,"  "  Four  forty-five," 
or  "  Five  fifteen,"  as  the  case  may  be,  and  as 
the  clock  strikes  they  open  their  eyes.  It  is 
very  wonderful,  this ;  the  more  one  dwells  upon 
it  the  -greater  the  mystery  grows.  Some  Ego 
within  us,  acting  independently  of  our  conscious 
self,  must  be  capable  of  counting  the  hours  while 
we  sleep.  Unaided  by  clock  or  sun,  or  any  other 
medium  known  to  our  five  senses,  it  keeps  watch 
through  the  darkness.  At  the  exact  moment  it 
whispers  "  Time  !  "  and  we  awake.  The  work 
of  an  old  riverside  fellow  I  once  talked  with  called 
him  to  be  out  of  bed  each  morning  half  an  hour 
before  high  tide.  He  told  me  that  never  once 
had  he  overslept  himself  by  a  minute.  Latterly 
he  never  even  troubled  to  work  out  the  time  for 
himself.  He  would  lie  down  tired  and  sleep  a 
dreamless  sleep,  and  each  morning  at  a  different 
hour  this  ghostly  watchman,  true  as  the  tide 
itself,  would  silently  call  him.  Did  the  man's 
spirit  haunt  through  the  darkness  the  muddy 
stairs,  or  had  it  knowledge  of  the  ways  of 
Nature  ?  Whatever  the  process,  the  man  him- 
self was  unconscious  of  it.  And  yet,  to  satisfy 

69 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    Wh  eels 


our  craving  for  mystery,  we  must  needs  dress  up 
ghosts  in  night-shirts,  and  listen  round  a  three- 
legged  table  to  spirits  spelling  nonsense  ! 

In  my  own  case,  my  inward  watchman  is, 
perhaps,  somewhat  out  of  practice.  He  does 
his  best,  but  he  is  over-anxious  ;  he  worries  him- 
self, and  loses  count.  I  say  to  him,  maybe:  "Five 
thirty,  please,"  and  he  wakes  me  with  a  start  at 
half-past  two.  I  look  at  my  watch  ;  he  suggests 
that  perhaps  I  forgot  to  wind  it  up.  I  put  it  to 
my  ear  ;  it  is  still  going.  He  thinks  maybe 
something  has  happened  to  it;  he  is  confident 
himself  it  is  half-past  five,  if  not  a  little  later. 
To  satisfy  him,  I  put  on  a  pair  of  slippers  and 
go  downstairs  to  inspect  the  dining-room  clock. 
What  happens  to  a  man  when  he  wanders  about 
the  house  in  the  middle  of  the  night  clad  in  a 
dressing-gown  and  a  pair  of  slippers,  there  is  no 
need  to  recount;  most  men  know  by  experience. 
Everything,  especially  everything  with  a  sharp 
corner,  takes  a  cowardly  delight  in  hitting  him. 
When  you  are  wearing  a  pair  of  stout  boots 
things  get  out  of  your  way  ;  when  you  venture 
among  furniture  in  wool-work  slippers  and  no 
socks  it  comes  at  you  and  kicks  you.  I  return 
to  bed  bad-tempered,  and  refusing  to  listen  to 
his  further  absurd  suggestion  that  all  the  clocks 
in  the  house  have  entered  into  a  conspiracy 
against  me,  take  half  an  hour  to  get  to  sleep 
again.  From  four  to  five  he  wakes  me  every  ten 

70 


Awakening  at  Beggarbush 

minutes.  I  wish  I  had  never  said  a  word  to  him 
about  the  thing.  At  five  o'clock  he  goes  to  sleep 
himself,  worn  out,  and  leaves  it  to  the  girl,  who 
does  it  half  an  hour  later  than  usual. 

On  this  particular  Wednesday  he  worried  me 
to  such  an  extent  that  I  got  up  at  five  simply  to 
be  rid  of  him.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
myself.  Our  train  did  not  leave  till  ten  minutes 
past  eight.  All  our  luggage  had  been  packed  and 
sent  on  the  night  before,  together  with  the  bicy- 
cles, to  Fenchurch  Street  Station.  I  went  into 
my  study;  I  thought  I  would  put  in  an  hour's 
writing.  The  early  morning,  before  one  has 
breakfasted,  is  not,  I  take  it,  a  good  season  for 
literary  effort.  I  wrote  three  paragraphs  of  a 
story,  and  then  read  them  over  to  myself.  Some 
unkind  things  have  been  said  about  my  work,  but 
nothing  has  yet  been  written  which  would  have 
done  justice  to  those  three  paragraphs.  I  threw 
them  into  the  waste  paper  basket,  and  sat  trying 
to  remember  what,  if  any,  charitable  institutions 
provided  pensions  for  decayed  authors. 

To  escape  from  this  train  of  reflection,  I  put  a 
golf  ball  in  my  pocket,  and  selecting  a  driver, 
strolled  out  into  the  paddock.  A  couple  of  sheep 
were  browsing  there,  and  they  followed,  and  took 
a  keen  interest  in  my  practice.  The  one  was  a 
kindly,  sympathetic  old  party.  I  do  not  think 
she  understood  the  game  ;  I  think  it  was  my  do- 
ing this  innocent  thing  so  early  in  the  morning 

71 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

that  appealed  to  her.  At  every  stroke  I  made 
she  bleated : 

"  G-o-o-d,  g-o-o-o-d,  ind-e-e-e-d !  " 

She  seemed  as  pleased  as  if  she  had  done  it 
herself. 

As  for  the  other  one,  she  was  a  cantankerous, 
disagreeable  old  thing,  as  discouraging  to  me  as 
her  friend  was  helpful. 

"  Ba-a-a-d,  da-a-a-m  ba-a-a-d  !  "  was  her  com- 
ment on  almost  every  stroke.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  some  were  really  excellent  strokes ;  but  she 
did  it  just  to  be  contradictory  and  for  the  sake  of 
irritating.  I  could  see  that. 

By  a  most  regrettable  accident,  one  of  my 
swiftest  balls  struck  the  good  sheep  on  the  nose. 
And  at  that  the  bad  sheep  laughed  —  laughed 
distinctly  and  undoubtedly ;  a  husky,  vulgar 
laugh ;  and  while  her  friend  stood  glued  to  the 
ground  too  astonished  to  move,  she  changed  her 
note  for  the  first  time  and  bleated  : 

"  Go-o-o-d,  ve-ery  go-o-o-d  !  Be-e-e-est 
sho-o-ot  he-e-e  's  ma-a-a-de  !  " 

I  would  have  given  half  a  crown  had  it  been 
her  I  had  hit  instead  of  the  other  one.  It  is  ever 
the  good  and  amiable  who  suffer  in  this  world. 

I  had  wasted  more  time  than  I  had  intended 
in  the  paddock,  and  when  Ethelbertha  came  to 
tell  me  it  was  half-past  seven,  and  that  breakfast 
was  on  the  table,  I  remembered  that  I  had  not 
shaved.  It  vexes  Ethelbertha,  my  shaving 

72 


"  She  bleated:  c  G-o-o-d,  g-o-o-o-d^  ind-e-e-e-d ! "  " 


Awakening  at  Beggarbusb 

quickly.  She  fears  that  to  outsiders  it  may  sug- 
gest a  poor-spirited  attempt  at  suicide,  and  that 
in  consequence  it  may  get  about  the  neighbour- 
hood that  we  are  not  happy  together.  As  a 
further  argument,  she  has  also  hinted  that  my 
appearance  is  not  of  the  kind  that  can  be  trifled 
with. 

On  the  whole,  I  was  just  as  glad  not  to  be  able 
to  take  a  long  farewell  of  Ethelbertha.  I  did  not 
want  to  risk  her  breaking  down.  But  I  should 
have  liked  more  opportunity  to  say  a  few  farewell 
words  of  advice  to  the  children,  especially  as  re- 
gards my  fishing-rod,  which  they  will  persist  in 
using  for  cricket  stumps  ;  and  I  hate  having  to 
run  for  a  train.  Quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  sta- 
tion I  overtook  George  and  Harris  ;  they  were 
also  running.  In  their  case — so  Harris  informed 
me,  jerkily,  while  we  trotted  side  by  side — it  was 
the  new  kitchen  stove  that  was  to  blame.  This 
was  the  first  morning  they  had  tried  it,  and  from 
some  cause  or  other  it  had  blown  up  the  kidneys 
and  scalded  the  cook.  He  said  he  hoped  that 
by  the  time  we  returned  they  would  have  gotten 
more  used  to  it. 

We  caught  the  train  by  the  skin  of  our  teeth, 
as  the  siying  is ;  and,  reflecting  upon  the  events 
of  the  morning  as  we  sat  gasping  in  the  carriage, 
there  passed  vividly  before  my  mind  the  pano- 
rama of  my  Uncle  Podger,  as  on  two  hundred 
and  fifty  days  in  the  year  he  would  start  from 

73 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

Ealing  Common   by   the   nine    thirteen  train  to 
Moorgate  Street. 

From  my  Uncle  Podger's  house  to  the  railway 
station  was  eight  minutes*  walk.  What  my  uncle 
always  said  was : 

"  Allow  yourself  a  quarter  of  an  hour  and  take 
it  easily." 

What  he  always  did  was  to  start  five  minutes 
before  the  time  and  run.  I  do  not  know  why, 
but  this  was  the  custom  of  the  suburb.  Many 
stout  city  gentlemen  lived  at  Ealing  in  those  days 
—  I  believe  some  live  there  still  —  and  caught 
early  trains  to  the  city.  They  all  started  late  ; 
they  all  carried  a  black  bag  and  a  newspaper  in 
one  hand  and  an  umbrella  in  the  other ;  and  for 
the  last  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  station,  wet  or 
fine,  they  all  ran. 

Folks  with  nothing  else  to  do,  nurse  maids, 
chiefly,  and  errand  boys,  with  now  and  then  a 
perambulating  costermonger  added,  would  gather 
on  the  Common  of  a  fine  morning  to  watch 
them  pass  and  cheer  the  most  deserving.  It 
was  not  a  showy  spectacle.  They  did  not  run 
well ;  they  did  not  even  run  fast ;  but  they  were 
earnest,  and  they  did  their  best.  The  exhibi- 
tion appealed  less  to  one's  sense  of  art  than 
to  one's  natural  admiration  for  conscientious 
effort. 

Occasionally  a  little  harmless  betting  would 
take  place  among  the  crowd. 

74 


Awakening  at  Beggarbush 

"  Two  to  one  agin  the  old  gent  in  the  white 
weskit !  " 

"  Ten  to  one  on  old  Blowpipes,  bar  he  don't 
roll  over  hisself  'fore  'e  gets  there." 

"  Even  money  on  the  Purple  Hemperor  !  "  — 
a  nickname  bestowed  by  a  youth  of  entomologi- 
cal tastes  upon  a  certain  retired  military  neigh- 
bour of  my  uncle's,  a  gentleman  of  imposing 
appearance  when  stationary,  but  apt  to  colour 
highly  under  exercise. 

My  uncle  and  the  others  would  write  to  the 
Ealing  Press,  complaining  bitterly  concerning 
the  supineness  of  the  local  police ;  and  the  editor 
would  add  spirited  leaders  upon  the  Decay  of 
Courtesy  Among  the  Lower  Orders,  especially 
throughout  the  Western  suburbs.  But  no  good 
ever  resulted. 

It  was  not  that  my  uncle  did  not  rise  early 
enough  ;  it  was  that  troubles  came  to  him  at  the 
last  moment.  The  first  thing  he  would  do  after 
breakfast  would  be  to  lose  his  newspaper.  We 
always  knew  when  Uncle  Podger  had  lost  any- 
thing by  the  expression  of  astonished  indignation 
with  which  on  such  occasions  he  would  regard 
the  world  in  general.  It  never  occurred  to  my 
Uncle  Podger  to  say  to  himself: 

"  I  am  a  careless  old  man.  I  lose  everything. 
I  never  know  where  I  have  put  anything.  I  am 
quite  incapable  of  finding  it  again  for  myself. 
In  this  respect  I  must  be  a  perfect  nuisance  to 

75 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 


everybody  about  me.     I   must  set  to  work  and 
reform  myself." 

On  the  contrary,  by  some  peculiar  course  of 
reasoning  he  had  convinced  himself  that,  when- 
ever he  lost  a  thing  it  was  everybody's  fault  in 
the  house  but  his  own. 

"  I  had  it  in  my  hand  here  not  a  minute 
ago  !  "  he  would  exclaim. 

From  his  tone  you  might  have  thought  he  was 
living  surrounded  by  conjurors,  who  spirited 
things  away  from  him  merely  to  irritate  him. 

"  Could  you  have  left  it  in  the  garden  ?  "  my 
aunt  would  suggest. 

"  What  should  I  want  to  leave  it  in  the  garden 
for  ?  I  don't  want  a  paper  in  the  garden.  I 
want  the  paper  in  the  train  with  me." 

"  You  have  n't  put  it  in  your  pocket  ?  " 

"  Bless  the  woman  !  Do  you  think  I  should 
be  standing  here  at  five  minutes  to  nine  looking 
for  it  if  I  had  it  in  my  pocket  all  the  while  ?  Do 
you  think  I  'm  a  fool  ?  " 

Here  somebody  would  exclaim  :  "  What  's 
this  ?  "  and  hand  him  from  somewhere  a  paper 
neatly  folded. 

"  I  do  wish  people  would  leave  my  things 
alone,"  he  would  growl,  snatching  at  it  savagely. 

He  would  open  his  bag  to  put  it  in,  and  then, 
glancing  at  it,  he  would  pause,  speechless  with 
sense  of  injury. 

"  What  's  the  matter  ?  "  Aunt  would  ask. 
76 


Awakening  at  Beggarbush 

"  The  day  before  yesterday's  ! "  he  would 
answer,  too  hurt  even  to  shout,  throwing  the 
paper  down  upon  the  table. 

If  only  sqmetimes  it  had  been  yesterday's  it 
wrould  have  been  a  change.  But  it  was  always 
the  day  before  yesterday's,  except  on  Tuesdays ; 
then  it  would  be  Saturday's. 

We  would  find  it  for  him  eventually  —  as 
often  as  not  he  had  been  sitting  on  it.  And  then 
he  would  smile,  not  genially,  but  with  the  weari- 
ness that  comes  to  a  man  who  feels  that  Fate  has 
cast  his  lot  among  a  band  of  hopeless  idiots. 

"  All  the  time  right  in  front  of  your  noses  — !" 
He  would  not  finish  the  sentence ;  he  prided 
himself  upon  his  self-control. 

This  settled,  he  would  start  for  the  hall,  where 
it  was  the  custom  of  my  Aunt  Maria  to  have  the 
children  gathered,  ready  to  say  good-by  to  him. 

My  aunt  never  left  the  house  herself,  if  only 
to  make  a  call  next  door,  without  taking  a  tender 
farewell  of  every  inmate.  One  never  knew,  she 
would  say,  what  might  happen. 

One  of  them,  of  course,  was  sure  to  be  miss- 
ing, and  the  moment  this  was  noticed  all  the 
other  six,  without  an  instant's  hesitation5  would 
scatter  with  a  whoop  to  find  it. 

Immediately  they  were  gone  it  would  turn  up 
by  itself  from  somewhere  quite  near,  always  with 
the  most  reasonable  explanations  for  its  absence, 
and  would  at  once  start  off  after  the  others  to 

77 


T'bree  Men   on    W^heels 

explain  to  them  that  it  was  found.  In  this  way 
five  minutes  at  least  would  be  taken  up  in  every- 
body's looking  for  everybody  else,  which  was 
just  sufficient  time  to  allow  my  uncle  to  find  his 
umbrella  and  lose  his  hat.  When,  at  last,  the 
group  reassembled  in  the  hall,  the  drawing-room 
clock  would  commence  to  strike  nine.  It  pos- 
sessed a  cold,  penetrating  chime,  that  always  had 
the  effect  of  confusing  my  uncle.  In  his  excite- 
ment he  would  kiss  some  of  the  children  twice 
over,  pass  by  others,  forget  whom  he  had  kissed 
and  whom  he  had  n't,  and  have  to  begin  all  over 
again.  He  used  to  say  he  believed  they  mixed 
themselves  up  on  purpose,  and  I  am  not  pre- 
pared to  maintain  that  the  charge  was  altogether 
false.  To  add  to  his  troubles,  one  child  always 
had  a  sticky  face,  and  that  child  would  always  be 
the  most  affectionate. 

If  things  were  going  too  smoothly,  the  eldest 
boy  would  come  out  with  some  tale  about  all  the 
clocks  in  the  house  being  five  minutes  slow,  and 
of  his  having  been  late  for  school  the  previous 
day  in  consequence.  This  would  send  my  uncle 
rushing  impetuously  down  to  the  gate,  where  he 
would  recollect  that  he  had  with  him  neither  his 
bag  nor  his  umbrella.  All  the  children  that  my 
aunt  could  not  stop  would  charge  after  him,  two 
of  them  struggling  for  the  umbrella,  the  others 
surging  around  the  bag.  And  when  they  re- 
turned we  would  discover  on  the  hall  table  the 

78 


W re  walked  up  to  a  hansom  " 


Awakening  at  Beggarbush 

most  important  thing  of  all  that  he  had  forgotten, 
and  wonder  what  he  would  say  about  it  when  he 
came  home. 

We  arrived  at  Waterloo  a  little  after  nine  .and 
at  once  proceeded  to  put  George's  experiment 
into  operation.  Opening  the  book  at  the  chap- 
ter entitled  "  At  the  Cab  Rank/'  we  walked  up 
to  a  hansom,  raised  our  hats  and  wished  the 
driver  "  Good  morning." 

This  man  was  not  to  be  outdone  in  politeness 
by  any  foreigner,  real  or  imitation.  Calling  to  a 
friend  named  "  Charles  "  to  "  hold  the  steed,"  he 
sprang  from  his  box  and  returned  to  us  a  bow 
that  would  have  done  credit  to  Mr.  Turveydrop 
himself.  Speaking  apparently  in  the  name  of 
the  nation,  he  welcomed  us  to  England,  adding 
a  regret  that  Her  Majesty  was  not  at  the  moment 
in  London. 

We  could  not  reply  to  him  in  kind ;  nothing 
of  this  sort  had  been  anticipated  by  the  book. 
We  called  him  tc  coachman,"  at  which  he  again 
bowed  to  the  pavement,  and  asked  him  if  he 
would  have  the  goodness  to  drive  us  to  the 
Westminster  Bridge  Road. 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  his  heart  and  said  the 
pleasure  would  be  his. 

Taking  the  third  sentence  in  the  chapter, 
George  asked  him  what  his  fare  would  be. 

The  question,  as  introducing  a  sordid  element 
into  the  conversation,  seemed  to  hurt  his  feelings. 

79 


r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 


He  said  he  never  took  money  from  distinguished 
strangers  ;  he  suggested  a  souvenir  —  a  diamond 
scarfpin,  a  gold  snuff-box,  some  little  trifle  of 
that  sort  by  which  he  could  remember  us. 

As  a  small  crowd  had  collected,  and  as  the 
joke  was  drifting  rather  too  far  in  the  cabman's 
direction,  we  climbed  in  without  further  parley 
and  were  driven  away  amid  cheers.  We  stopped 
the  cab  at  a  boot-shop,  a  little  past  Astley's 
Theatre,  that  looked  the  sort  of  place  we  wanted. 
It  was  one  of  those  overfed  shops  that  the 
moment  their  shutters  are  taken  down  in  the 
morning  disgorge  their  goods  all  around  them. 
Boxes  of  boots  stood  piled  on  the  pavement  or 
in  the  gutter  opposite.  Boots  hung  in  festoons 
about  its  doors  and  windows.  Its  sunblind  was 
as  some  grimy  vine,  bearing  bunches  of  black 
and  brown  boots.  Inside,  the  shop  was  a  bower 
of  boots.  The  man,  when  we  entered,  was  busy 
with  a  chisel  and  hammer  opening  a  new  crateful 
of  boots. 

George  raised  his  hat  and  said  "  Good  morn- 
ing." 

The  man  did  not  even  turn  around.  He 
struck  me  from  the  first  as  a  disagreeable  man. 
He  grunted  something  which  might  have  been 
"Good-morning"  or  might  not,  and  went  on 
with  his  work. 

George  said  :  "  I  have  been  recommended  to 
your  shop  by  my  friend,  Mr.  X." 

80 


Awakening  at  Beggarbush 

In  response  the  man  should  have  said:  "Mr. 
X.  is  a  most  worthy  gentleman.  It  will  give 
me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  serve  any  friend  of 
his." 

What  he  did  say  was :  "  Don't  know  him  ; 
never  heard  of  him." 

This  was  disconcerting.  The  book  gave 
three  or  four  methods  of  buying  boots.  George 
had  carefully  selected  the  one  centred  around 
"  Mr.  X."  as  being  of  all  the  most  courtly.  You 
talked  a  good  deal  with  the  shopkeeper  about 
this  "  Mr.  X.,"  and  then,  when  by  this  means 
friendship  and  understanding  had  been  estab- 
lished, you  slid  naturally  and  gracefully  into  the 
immediate  object  of  your  coming,  namely,  your 
desire  for  boots,  "  cheap  but  good."  This  gross, 
material  man  cared  apparently  nothing  for  the 
niceties  of  retail  dealing.  It  was  necessary  with 
such  a  one  to  come  to  business  with  brutal  direct- 
ness. George  abandoned  "  Mr.  X.,"  and  turning 
back  to  a  previous  page,  took  a  sentence  at  ran- 
dom. It  was  not  a  happy  selection  :  it  was  a 
speech  that  would  have  been  superfluous  made 
to  any  bootmaker.  Under  the  present  circum- 
stances, threatened  and  stifled  as  we  were  on  every 
side  by  boots,  it  possessed  the  dignity  of  positive 
imbecility.  It  ran : 

"  One  has  told  me  that  you  have  here  boots 
for  sale." 

For  the  first  time  the  man  put  down  his  ham- 
6  81 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    ffih  eels 

mer  and    chisel   and  looked  at   us.     He  spoke 
slowly,  in  a  thick  and  husky  voice.     He  said : 

"What  d'ye  think  I  keep  boots  for  —  to 
smell  'em?" 

He  was  one  of  those  men  that  begin  quietly 
and  grow  more  angry  as  they  proceed,  their 
wrongs  apparently  working  within  them  yeast- 
like. 

"  What  d'  ye  think  I  am,"  he  continued,  "  a 
boot  collector?  What  d'ye  think  I'm  running 
this  shop  for  —  my  health  ?  D'  ye  think  I  love 
the  boots,  and  can't  bear  to  part  with  a  pair  ? 
D'  ye  think  I  hang  them  about  here  to  look  at 
'em  ?  Ain't  there  enough  of  'em  ?  Where  d'  ye 
think  you  are  —  in  an  international  exhibition  of 
boots?  What  d'ye  think  these  boots  are  —  a 
historical  collection  ?  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a 
man  keeping  a  bootshop  and  not  selling  boots  ? 
D'  ye  think  I  decorate  the  shop  with  'em  to  make 
it  look  pretty  ?  What  d'  ye  take  me  for  —  a  prize 
idiot?" 

I  have  always  maintained  that  these  conver- 
sation books  are  never  of  any  real  use.  What 
we  wanted  was  some  English  equivalent  for  the 
well-known  German  idiom:  " Eehalten  Sie  Ihr 
Haar  auf."  Nothing  of  the  sort  was  to  be  found 
in  the  book  from  beginning  to  end.  However, 
I  will  do  George  the  credit  to  admit  he  chose 
the  very  best  sentence  that  was  to  be  found 
therein  and  applied  it.  He  said : 

82 


Awakening   at   Beggarbush 

"  I  will  come  again,  when,  perhaps,  you  will 
have  some  more  boots  to  show  me.  Till  then, 
adieu  ! " 

With  that  we  returned  to  our  cab  and  drove 
away,  leaving  the  man  standing  in  the  centre  of 
his  boot-decked  doorway  addressing  remarks  to 
us.  What  he  said  I  did  not  hear,  but  the  passers- 
by  appeared  to  find  it  interesting. 

George  was  for  stopping  at  another  bootshop 
and  trying  the  experiment  afresh.  He  said  he 
really  did  want  a  pair  of  bedroom  slippers.  But 
we  persuaded  him  to  postpone  their  purchase 
until  our  arrival  in  some  foreign  city,  where  the 
trades-people  are  no  doubt  more  inured  to  this 
sort  of  talk,  or  else  more  naturally  amiable.  On 
the  subject  of  the  hat,  however,  he  was  adamant. 
He  maintained  that  without  that  he  could  not 
travel,  and  accordingly  we  pulled  up  at  a  small 
shop  in  the  Blackfriar's  Road. 

The  proprietor  of  this  shop  was  a  cheery, 
bright-eyed  little  man,  and  he  helped  us  rather 
than  hindered  us.  When  George  asked  him  in 
the  words  of  the  book,  "  Have  you  any  hats?" 
he  did  not  get  angry,  he  just  stopped  and 
thoughtfully  scratched  his  chin. 

"Hats,"' said  he,  "let  me  think.  Yes"  — 
here  a  smile  of  positive  pleasure  broke  over  his 
genial  countenance  — cc  yes,  now  I  come  to  think 
of  it,  I  believe  I  have  a  hat.  But,  tell  me,  why 
do  you  ask  me  ?  " 

83 


*Th  r  e  e   M  en   on    W 'h  eels 

George  explained  to  him  that  he  wished  to 
purchase  a  cap,  a  travelling  cap,  but  the  essence 
of  the  transaction  was  that  it  was  to  be  "  a  good 
cap." 

The  man's  face  fell.  "Ah,"  he  remarked, 
"  there  I  am  afraid  you  have  me.  Now,  if  you 
had  wanted  a  bad  cap,  not  worth  the  price  asked 
for  it ;  a  cap  good  for  nothing  but  to  clean  win- 
dows with,  I  could  have  found  you  the  very 
thing.  But  a  good  cap  —  no,  we  don't  keep 
them. 

"  But  wait  a  minute,"  he  continued  on  seeing 
the  disappointment  that  spread  over  George's 
expressive  countenance ;  "  don't  be  in  a  hurry. 
I  have  a  cap  here,"  he  went  to  a  drawer  and 
opened  it.  "  It  is  not  a  good  cap,  but  it  is  not 
so  bad  as  most  of  the  caps  I  sell."  He  brought 
it  forward  extended  on  his  palm.  cc  What  do 
you  think  of  that  ?  "  he  asked ;  "  could  you  put 
up  with  that?" 

George  fitted  it  on  before  the  glass,  and  choos- 
ing another  remark  from  the  book,  said : 

"  This  hat  fits  me  sufficiently  well,  but  tell 
me,  do  you  consider  that  it  becomes  me  ?  " 

The  man  stepped  back  and  took  a  bird's-eye 
view. 

"  Candidly,"  he  replied,  "  I  can't  say  that  it 
does."  He  turned  from  George  and  addressed 
himself  to  Harris  and  myself.  "  Your  friend's 
beauty,"  said  he,  "  I  should  describe  as  elusive. 

84 


u  George  explained  that  he  wished  to  purchase  a  cap  " 


Awakening  at  Beggar  bush 

It  is  there,  but  you  can  easily  miss  it.  Now,  in 
that  cap,  to  my  thinking,  you  do  miss  it." 

At  this  point  it  occurred  to  George  that  he 
had  had  sufficient  fun  with  this  particular  man. 
He  said : 

"  That  is  all  right.  We  don't  want  to  lose 
the  train.  How  much  ?  " 

Answered  the  man :  "  The  price  of  that  cap, 
sir,  which  in  my  opinion  is  twice  as  much  as  it 
is  worth,  is  four  and  six.  Would  you  like  it 
wrapped  up  in  brown  paper,  sir,  or  in  white  ?  " 

George  said  he  would  take  it  as  it  was,  paid 
the  man  four  and  sixpence  in  silver  and-  went 
out.  Harris  and  I  followed. 

At  Fenchurch  Street  we  compromised  with 
our  cabman  for  five  shillings.  He  made  us 
another  courtly  bow,  and  begged  us  to  remember 
him  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria. 

Comparing  views  in  the  train,  we  agreed  that 
we  had  lost  the  game  by  two  points  to  one,  and 
George,  who  was  evidently  disappointed,  threw 
the  book  out  of  the  window.  We  found  our 
luggage  and  bicycles  safe  on  the  boat,  and  with 
the  tide  at  twelve  dropped  down  the  river. 


V.— THE   UNIVERSAL   EDUCATOR 

A  STORY    is    told    of  a    Scotchman, 
who,  loving  a  lassie,  desired  her  for 
his  wife.     But  he  possessed  the  pru- 
dence of  his  race.     He  had  noticed 
in  his  circle  many  an  otherwise  prom- 
ising union  result  in  disappointment  and  dismay 
purely  in  consequence  of  the  false  estimate  formed 
by  bride  or  bridegroom  concerning  the  imagined 
perfectability  of  the  other.     He  determined  that 
in   his   own   case   no  collapsed    ideal   should    be 
possible.      Therefore    it   was    that    his    proposal 
took  the  following  form : 

.  "I'm  but  a  puir  lad,  Jennie;  I  hae  nae  siller 
to  offer  ye,  and  nae  land." 

"  Ah,  but  ye  hae  yoursel',  Davie." 
"  An*   I  'm  wishfu'  it  wa'  onything  else,  lassie. 
I  'm  nae  but  a  puir,  ill-seasoned  loon,  Jennie." 

"  Na,  na ;  there  's  mony  a  lad  mair  ill-lookin' 
than  yoursel',  Davie." 

"  I  ha'  nae  seen  him,  lass,  and  I  'm  just  a- 
thinkin'  I  shouldna'  care  to." 

"  Better  a  plain  man,  Davie,  that  ye  can  depend 
a',  than  ane  that  would  be  a  speirin'  at  the  lassies, 
a  bringin'  trouble  into  the  hame  wi'  his  flouting 
ways." 

86 


Th e    Universal  Educator 

"  Dinna  ye  reckon  on  that,  Jennie;  it's  nae 
the  bonniest  Bubbly  Jock  that  maks  the  most 
feathers  to  fly  in  the  kail-yard.  I  was  ever  a  lad 
to  run  after  the  petticoats,  as  is  weel  kent;  an' 
it's  a  weary  handfu'  I  '11  be  to  ye,  I  'm  thinkin'." 

"  Ah,  but  ye  hae  a  kind  heart,  Davie ;  an'  ye 
love  me  weel.  I  'm  sure  on  't." 

"  I  like  ye  weel  enoo',  Jennie,  though  I  canna' 
say  how  long  the  feeling  may  bide  wi'  me ;  an' 
I  'm  kind  enoo'  when  I  hae  my  ain  way,  an' 
naethin'  happens  to  put  me  oot.  But  I  hae  the 
deevil's  ain  temper,  as  my  mither  can  tell  ye,  an', 
like  my  puir  fayther,  I'm  a-thinkin'  I'll  grow 
nae  better  as  I  grow  mair  auld." 

"  Ay,  but  ye  're  sair  hard  upon  yersel',  Davie. 
Ye  're  an  honest  lad.  I  ken  ye  better  than  ye 
ken  yersel',  an'  ye  '11  mak  a  guid  hame  for  me." 

"Maybe,  Jennie.  But  I  hae  my  doots.  It's 
a  sair  thing  for  wife  an'  bairns  when  the  guid  man 
canna  keep  awa'  frae  the  glass ;  an'  when  the 
scent  of  the  whuskey  comes  to  me  it 's  just  as 
though  I  hae'd  the  throat  o'  a  Loch  Tay  salmon ; 
it  just  gaes  doon  an'  doon  an'  doon,  an'  there's 
nae  fillin'  o'  me." 

cc  Ay,  but  ye 're  a  guid  man  when  ye 're  sober, 
Davie." 

"  Maybe  I  '11  be  that,  Jennie,  if  I  'm  nae 
disturbed." 

"  An'  ye  '11  bide  wi'  me,  Davie,  an'  work  for 
me?" 


Tb r  e  e   M en   on    fflh  eels 

"  I  see  nae  reason  why  I  shouldna  bide  wi' 
ye,  Jennie ;  but  dinna  ye  clack  aboot  work  to 
me,  for  I  just  canna  abear  the  thocht  o't." 

"  Anyhow,  ye  '11  do  your  best,  Davie  ?  As  the 
minister  says  :  nae  man  can  do  mair  than  that." 

"  An*  it 's  a  puir  best  that  mine  '11  be,  Jennie, 
an'  I  'm  nae  sure  ye  '11  hae  ower  muckle  even  o' 
that.  We  're  a'  weak,  sinfu'  creatures,  Jennie,  an' 
ye  'd  hae  some  deeficulty  to  find  a  man  weaker 
or  mair  sinfu'  than  mysel'." 

u  Weel,  weel,  ye  hae  a  truthfu'  tongue,  Davie. 
Mony  a  lad  will  mak  fine  promises  to  a  puir 
lassie,  only  to  break  'em  an'  her  heart  wi'  'em. 
Ye  speak  me  fair,  Davie,  an'  I  'm  thinkin'  I  '11 
just  tak  ye,  an'  see  what  comes  o't." 

Concerning  what  did  come  of  it  the  story  is 
silent,  but  one  feels  that  under  no  circumstances 
had  the  lady  any  right  to  complain  of  her  bar- 
gain. Whether  she  ever  did  or  did  not  —  for 
women  do  not  invariably  order  their  tongues 
according  to  logic,  nor  men  either,  for  the  matter 
of  that  —  Davie,  himself,  must  have  the  satis- 
faction of  reflecting  that  all  reproaches  were 
undeserved. 

I  wish  to  be  equally  frank  with  the  reader  of 
these  papers.  I  wish  here  conscientiously  to  set 
forth  their  shortcomings.  I  wish  no  one  to  read 
these  papers  under  a  misapprehension. 

There  will  be  no  useful  information  in  these 
papers. 

88 


The    Universal  Educator 

Any  one  who  should  think  that  with  the  aid 
of  this  story  he  would  be  able  to  make  a  tour 
through  Germany  and  the  Black  Forest  would 
probably  lose  himself  before  he  got  to  the  Nore. 
That,  at  all  events,  would  be  the  best  thing  that 
could  happen  to  him.  The  farther  away  from 
home  he  got,  the  greater  only  would  be  his 
difficulties. 

I  do  not  regard  the  conveyance  of  useful  in- 
formation as  my  forte.  This  belief  was  not 
inborn  with  me ;  it  has  been  driven  home  upon 
me  by  experience. 

In  my  early  journalistic  days  I  served  upon  a 
paper,  the  forerunner  of  many  very  popular 
periodicals  of  the  present  day.  Our  boast  was 
that  we  combined  instruction  with  amusement ; 
as  to  what  should  be  regarded  as  affording  amuse- 
ment and  what  instruction  the  reader  judged  for 
himself.  We  gave  advice  to  people  about  to 
marry —  long,  earnest  advice  that  would,  had  they 
followed  it,  have  made  our  circle  of  readers  the 
envy  of  the  whole  married  world.  We  told  our 
subscribers  how  to  make  fortunes  by  keeping 
rabbits,  giving  facts  and  figures.  The  thing  that 
must  have  surprised  them  was  that  we  ourselves 
did  not  give  up  journalism  and  start  rabbit  farm- 
ing. Often  and  often  have  I  proved  conclusively 
from  authoritative  sources  how  any  man  starting 
a  rabbit  farm  with  twelve  selected  rabbits  and 
a  little  judgment  must  at  the  end  of  three  years 

89 


Tb  r  e  e  Men   on    Wh  eels 

be  in  receipt  of  an  income  of  two  thousand  a  year, 
rising  rapidly.  He  simply  could  not  help  him- 
self. He  might  not  want  the  money.  He  might 
not  know  what  to  do  with  it  when  he  had  it. 
But  there  it  was  for  him.  I  have  never  met  a 
rabbit  farmer  myself  worth  two  thousand  a  year, 
though  I  have  known  many  start  with  the  six 
necessary  assorted  couples.  Something  has  al- 
ways gone  wrong  somewhere ;  maybe  the  con- 
tinued atmosphere  of  a  rabbit  farm  saps  the 
judgment. 

We  told  our  readers  how  many  bald-headed 
men  there  were  in  Iceland,  and  for  all  we  knew 
our  figures  may  have  been  correct ;  how  many 
red  herrings  placed  tail  to  mouth  it  would  take 
to  reach  from  London  to  Rome,  which  must 
have  been  useful  to  any  one  desirous  to  lay  down 
a  line  of  red  herrings  from  London  to  Rome, 
enabling  them  to  order  in  the  right  quantity  at 
the  beginning;  how  many  words  the  average 
woman  spoke  in  a  day  ;  and  other  such  like  items 
of  information  calculated  to  make  them  wise  and 
great  beyond  the  readers  of  other  journals. 

We  told  them  how  to  cure  fits  in  cats.  Per- 
sonally, I  do  not  believe,  and  I  did  not  believe 
then,  that  you  can  cure  fits  in  cats.  If  I  had  a 
cat  subject  to  fits  I  should  advertise  it  for  sale, 
or  even  give  it  away.  But  our  duty  was  to 
supply  information  when  asked  for.  Some  fool 
wrote,  clamouring  to  know ;  and  I  spent  the  best 

90 


7 '  h e    Universal  Educator 

part  of  a  morning  seeking  knowledge  on  the 
subject.  I  found  what  I  wanted  at  length  at  the 
end  of  an  old  cookery  book.  What  it  was  doing 
there  I  have  never  been  able  to  understand.  It 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  proper  subject  of  the 
book  whatever;  there  was  no  suggestion  that 
you  could  make  anything  savory  out  of  a  cat,  even 
when  you  had  cured  it  of  its  fits.  The  authoress 
had  just  thrown  in  this  paragraph  out  of  pure 
generosity.  I  can  only  say  that  I  wish  she  had 
left  it  out ;  it  was  the  cause  of  a  deal  of  angry 
correspondence  and  of  the  loss  of  four  subscribers 
to  the  paper,  if  not  more.  The  man  said  the 
result  of  following  our  advice  had  been  two 
pounds' worth  of  damage  to  his  kitchen  crockery, 
to  say  nothing  of  a  broken  window  and  probable 
blood-poisoning  to  himself;  added  to  which  the 
cat's  fits  were  worse  than  before.  And  yet,  it 
was  a  simple  enough  recipe.  You  held  the  cat 
between  your  legs,  gently,  so  as  not  to  hurt  it, 
and  with  a  pair  of  scissors  made  a  sharp,  clean 
cut  in  its  tail.  You  did  not  cut  off  any  part  of 
the  tail,  you  were  to  be  careful  not  to  do  that ; 
you  only  made  an  incision. 

As  we  explained  to  the  man,  the  garden  or  the 
coal-cellar  would  have  been  the  proper  place  for 
the  operation ;  no  one  but  an  idiot  would  have 
attempted  to  perform  it  in  a  kitchen,  and  without 
help. 

We  gave  them  hints  on  etiquette.     We  told 
91 


r  e  e   M  en   on    If^h  eels 

them  how  to  address  peers  and  bishops ;  also 
how  to  eat  soup.  We  instructed  shy  young  men 
how  to  acquire  easy  grace  in  drawing-rooms. 
We  taught  dancing  to  both  sexes  by  the  aid  of 
diagrams.  We  solved  their  religious  doubts  for 
them,  and  supplied  them  with  a  code  of  morals 
that  would  have  done  credit  to  a  stained-glass 
window. 

The  paper  was  not  a  financial  success  —  it  was 
some  years  before  its  time  —  and  the  consequence 
was  that  our  staff  was  limited.  My  own  depart- 
ment, I  remember,  included  Advice  to  Mothers 
—  I  wrote  that  with  the  assistance  of  my  land- 
lady, who,  having  divorced  one  husband  and 
buried  four  children,  was,  I  considered,  a  reli- 
able authority  on  all  domestic  affairs ;  Hints  on 
Furnishing  and  Household  Decorations  —  with 
designs  ;  a  column  of  Literary  Counsel  to  Begin- 
ners —  I  sincerely  hope  my  guidance  was  of 
better  service  to  them  than  it  ever  was  to  myself; 
and  our  weekly  article,  Straight  Talks  to  Young 
Men,  signed  "  Uncle  Henry."  A  kindly,  genial 
old  fellow  was  Uncle  Henry,  with  wide  and 
varied  experience  and  a  sympathetic  attitude 
toward  the  rising  generation.  He  had  been 
through  trouble  himself  in  his  far-back  youth, 
and  knew  most  things.  Even  to  this  day  I  read 
Uncle  Henry's  advice,  and  though  I  say  it  who 
should  not,  it  still  seems  to  me  good,  sound 

advice.     I  often  think  that  had  I  followed  Uncle 

92 


Th e    Universal  Educator 

Henry's  counsel  closer  I  would  have  been  wiser, 
made  fewer  mistakes,  felt  better  satisfied  with 
myself  than  is  now  the  case. 

A  quiet,  weary  little  woman,  who  lived  in  a 
bed-sitting-room  off  the  Tottenham  Court  Road, 
and  who  had  a  husband  in  a  lunatic  asylum,  did 
our  Cooking  Column,  our  Hints  on  Education 
—  we  were  full  of  hints  —  and  a  page  and  a  half 
of  Fashionable  Intelligence,  written  in  the  pertly 
personal  style  which  even  yet  has  not  altogether 
disappeared,  so  I  am  informed,  from  modern 
journalism  :  "  I  must  tell  you  about  the  divine 
frock  I  wore  at  c  Glorious  Goodwood '  last  week. 
Prince  C. But  there,  I  really  must  not  re- 
peat all  the  things  the  silly  fellow  says ;  he  is  too 
foolish,  and  the  dear  Countess,  I  fancy,  was  just 
the  weeish  bit  jealous"  —  and  so  on. 

Poor  little  woman !  I  see  her  now,  in  the 
shabby  gray  alpaca  with  the  ink  stains  on  it. 
Perhaps  a  day  at  "  Glorious  Goodwood  "  or  any- 
where else  in  the  fresh  air  might  have  put  some 
colour  into  her  cheeks. 

Our  proprietor  —  one  of  the  most  unashamedly 
ignorant  men  I  ever  met  —  I  remember  his 
'gravely  informing  a  correspondent  once  that 
Ben  Jonson  had  written  Rabelais  to  pay  for 
his  mother's  funeral,  and  only  laughing  good- 
naturedly  when  his  mistakes  were  pointed  out  to 
him  —  wrote,  with  the  aid  of  a  cheap  encyclopae- 
dia, the  pages  devoted  to  General  Information,  and 

93 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

did  them  on  the  whole  remarkably  well ;  while 
our  office-boy,  with  an  excellent  pair  of  scissors 


"  Our  office-boy  was  responsible  for  our  Wit  and  Humour" 

for  his  assistant,  was  responsible  for  our  supply 
of  Wit  and  Humour. 

It   was    hard    work,  and    the  pay  was   poor: 
what  sustained  us  was  the  consciousness  that  we 

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Th e    Universal  Educator 

were  instructing  and  improving  our  fellow  men 
and  women.  Of  all  games  in  the  world,  the  one 
most  universally  and  eternally  popular  is  the 
game  of  School.  You  collect  six  children  and 
put  them  on  a  doorstep,  while  you  walk  up  and 
down  with  the  book  and  cane.  We  play  it  when 
babies,  we  play  it  when  boys  and  girls,  we  play  it 
when  men  and  women,  we  play  it  as,  lean  and 
slippered,  we  totter  toward  the  grave.  It  never 
palls  upon,  it  never  wearies  us.  Only  one  thing 
mars  it :  the  tendency  of  one  and  all  of  the  other 
six  children  to  clamour  for  their  turn  with  the 
book  and  the  cane.  The  reason,  I  am  sure,  that 
journalism  is  so  popular  a  calling  in  spite  of  its 
many  drawbacks,  is  this  :  each  journalist  feels  he 
is  the  boy  walking  up  and  down  with  the  cane. 
The  Government,  the  Classes  and  the  Masses, 
Society,  Art  and  Literature,  are  the  other  chil- 
dren sitting  on  the  doorstep.  He  instructs  and 
improves  them. 

But  I  digress.  It  was  to  excuse  my  present 
permanent  disinclination  to  be  the  vehicle  of 
useful  information  that  I  recalled  these  matters. 
Let  us  now  return. 

Somebody,  signing  himself  Balloonist,  had  writ- 
ten to  ask  concerning  the  manufacture  of  hydrogen 
gas.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  manufacture — at  least, 
so  I  gathered  after  reading  up  the  subject  at  the 
British  Museum ;  yet  I  did  warn  Balloonist, 
whoever  he  might  be,  to  take  all  necessary  pre- 
95 


r  e  e   M  en   on    ffih  eels 

caution  against  accident.  What  more  could  I 
have  done  ?  Ten  days  afterward  a  florid-faced 
lady  called  at  the  office,  leading  by  the  hand  what 
she  explained  was  her  son,  aged  twelve.  The 
boy's  face. was  unimpressive  to  a  degree  positively 
remarkable.  His  mother  pushed  him  forward  and 
took  off  his  hat,  and  then  I  perceived  the  reason 
for  this.  He  had  no  eyebrows  whatever,  and  of 
his  hair  nothing  remained  but  a  scrubby  dust, 
giving  to  his  head  the  appearance  of  a  hard-boiled 
egg,  skinned  and  sprinkled  with  black  pepper. 

"  That  was  a  handsome  lad  this  time  last  week, 
with  naturally  curly  hair,"  remarked  the  lady. 
She  spoke  with  a  rising  inflection,  suggestive  of 
the  beginning  of  things. 

"  What  has  happened  to  change  him  ?  "  asked 
our  chief. 

"This  is  what's  happened  to  him,"  retorted 
the  lady.  She  drew  from  her  muff  a  copy  of  our 
last  week's  issue,  with  my  article  on  hydrogen 
gas  scored  in  pencil,  and  flung  it  before  his  eyes. 
Our  chief  took  it  and  read  it  through. 

"  He  was  Balloonist?  "  queried  the  chief. 

"  He  was  Balloonist,"  admitted  the  lady  ;  "  the 
poor,  innocent  child,  and  now  look  at  him  ! " 

"  Maybe  it  '11  grow  again,"  suggested  our  chief. 

"  Maybe  it  will,"  retorted  the  lady,  her  key 
continuing  to  rise,  "  and  maybe  it  won't.  What 
I  want  to  know  is  what  you  are  going  to  do  for 

him." 

96 


/  really  dont  see  that  It  is  our  fault ' ' 


T  h e    Universal  Educator 

Our  chief  suggested  a  hair-wash.  I  thought 
at  first  she  was  going  to  fly  at  him,  but  for 
the  moment  she  confined  herself  to  words.  It 
appeared  she  was  not  thinking  of  a  hair-wash,  but 
of  compensation.  She  also  made  observations  on 
the  general  character  of  our  paper,  its  utility,  its 
claim  to  public  support,  the  sense  and  wisdom  of 
its  contributors. 

"  I  really  don't  see  that  it  is  our  fault,"  urged 
the  chief — he  was  a  mild-mannered  man;  "he 
asked  for  information,  and  he  got  it." 

cc  Don't  you  try  to  be  funny  about  it,"  said  the 
lady  (he  had  not  meant  to  be  funny,  I  am  sure  ; 
levity  was  not  his  failing)  "  or  you  '11  get  some- 
thing that  you  have  n't  asked  for.  Why,  for  two 
pins,"  said  the  lady  with  a  suddenness  that  sent 
us  both  flying  like  scuttled  chickens  behind  our 
respective  chairs,  "  I  'd  come  around  and  make 
your  head  like  it !  "  I  take  it  she  meant  like  the 
boy's.  She  also  added  observations  upon  our 
chief's  personal  appearance  that  were  distinctly 
in  bad  taste.  She  was  not  a  nice  woman,  by  any 
means. 

Myself,  I  am  of  opinion  that  had  she  brought 
the  action  she  threatened  she  would  have  had 
no  case,  but  our  chief  was  a  man  who  had  had 
experience  with  the  law,  and  his  principle  was 
always  to  avoid  it.  I  have  heard  him  say  : 

"  If  a  man  stopped  me  in  the  street  and 
demanded  of  me  my  watch,  I  should  refuse  to 
7  97 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 


give  it  to  him.  If  he  threatened  to  take  it  by 
force,  I  feel  I  should,  though  not  a  fighting  man, 
do  my  best  to  protect  it.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  should  assert  his  intention  of  trying  to  obtain 
it  by  means  of  an  action  in  any  court  of  law,  I 
should  take  it  out  of  my  pocket  and  hand  it  to 
him,  and  think  I  had  got  off  cheaply." 

He  squared  the  matter  with  the  florid-faced 
lady  for  a  five-pound  note,  which  must  have 
represented  a  month's  profits  on  the  paper  ;  and 
she  departed,  taking  her  damaged  offspring  with 
her.  After  she  was  gone  our  chief  spoke  kindly 
to  me.  He  said  : 

"  Don't  think  I  am  blaming  you  in  the  least  ; 
it  is  not  your  fault  ;  it  is  Fate.  Keep  to  the 
moral  advice  and  the  criticism  ;  there  you  are 
distinctly  good  ;  but  don't  try  your  hand  any 
more  at  Useful  Information.  As  I  have  said,  it 
is  not  your  fault.  Your  information  is  correct 
enough  ;  there  is  nothing  to  be  said  against  that  ; 
it  simply  is  that  you  are  not  lucky  with  it." 

I  would  that  I  had  followed  his  advice  always  ; 
I  would  have  saved  myself  and  other  people 
much  disaster.  I  see  no  reason  why  it  should 
be,  but  so  it  is.  If  I  instruct  a  man  as  to  the 
best  route  between  London  and  Rome,  he  loses 
his  luggage  in  Switzerland,  or  is  nearly  ship- 
wrecked off  Dover.  If  I  counsel  him  in  the 
purchase  of  a  camera,  he  gets  run  in  by  the 
German  police  for  photographing  fortresses.  I 

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Th e    Universal  Educator 

once  took  a  deal  of  trouble  to  explain  to  a  man 
how  to  marry  his  deceased  wife's  sister  at  Stock- 
holm. I  found  out  for  him  the  time  the  boat 
left  Hull  and  the  best  hotels  to  stop  at.  There 
was  not  a  single  mistake  from  beginning  to  end 
in  the  information  with  which  I  supplied  him ; 
no  hitch  occurred  anywhere  ;  yet  now  he  never 
speaks  to  me. 

Therefore  it  is  that  I  have  come  to  restrain 
my  passion  for  the  giving  of  information.  There- 
fore it  is  that  nothing  in,  the  nature  of  practical 
instruction  will  be  found,  if  I  can  help  it,  within 
these  pages. 

There  will  be- no  description  of  towns,  no  his- 
torical reminiscences,  no  architecture,  no  morals. 

I  once  asked  an  intelligent  foreigner  what  he 
thought  of  London. 

He  said  :  "  It  is  a  very  big  town." 

I  said  :  "  What  struck  you  most  about  it  ?  " 

He  replied :  "  The  people." 

I  said  :  "  Compared  with  other  towns  —  Paris, 
Rome,  Berlin  —  what  did  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  It  is  bigger," 
he  said ;  "  what  more  can  one  say  ?  " 

One  ant-hill  is  very  much  like  another.  So 
many  avenues,  wide  or  narrow,  where  the  little 
creatures  swarm  in  strange  confusion  ;  these  bust- 
ling by,  important ;  these  halting  to  pow-wow 
with  one  another.  These  struggling  with  big 
burdens ;  these  but  basking  in  the  sun.  So 

99 


Tb  r  e  e   M  en   on    ff^b  eels 

many  granaries  stored  with  food  ;  so  many  cells 
where  the  little  things  sleep,  and  eat,  and  love ; 
the  corner  where  lie  their  little  white  bones. 
This  hive  is  larger,  the  next  smaller.  This  nest 
lies  on  the  sand,  and  another  under  the  stones. 
This  was  built  but  yesterday,  while  that  was 
fashioned  ages  ago,  some  say  even  before  the 
swallows  came ;  who  knows  ? 

Nor  will  there  be  found  herein  folklore  or 
story. 

Every  valley  where  lie  homesteads  has  its 
song.  I  will  tell  you  the  plot ;  you  can  turn  it 
into  verse  and  set  it  to  music  of  your  own. 

There  lived  a  lass,  and  there  came  a  lad,  who 
loved  and  rode  away. 

It  is  a  monotonous  song,  written  in  many 
languages  ;  for  the  young  man  seems  to  have 
been  a  mighty  traveller.  Here  in  sentimental 
Germany  they  remember  him  well.  So  also  the 
dwellers  of  the  Blue  Alsatian  Mountains  re- 
member his  coming  among  them  ;  while,  if  my 
memory  serves  me  truly,  he  likewise  visited  the 
Banks  of  Allan  Water.  A  veritable  Wandering 
Jew  is  he ;  for  still  the  foolish  girls  listen,  so 
they  say,  to  the  dying  away  of  his  hoofbeats. 

In  this  land  of  many  ruins,  that  long  while  ago 
were  voice-filled  homes,  linger  many  legends ; 
and  here  again,  giving  you  the  essentials,  I  leave 
you  to  cook  the  dish  for  yourself.  Take  a 
human  heart  or  two,  assorted  ;  a  bundle  of  human 


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Universal  Educator 

passions  —  there  are  not  many  of  them,  half  a 
dozen  at  the  most;  season  with  a  mixture  of 
6^J  and  evil ;  flavour  the  whole  with  the  sauce 
of  death,  and  serve  up  where  and  when  you  will. 
The  Saint's  Cell,  The  Haunted  Keep,  The  Dun- 
geon Grave,  The  Lover's  Leap  —  call  it  what 
you  will,  the  stew  's  the  same. 

Lastly,  in  these  papers  there  will  be  no  scenery. 
This  is  not  laziness  on  my  part ;  it  is  self-control. 
Nothing  is  easier  to  write  than  scenery ;  nothing 
more  difficult  and  unnecessary  to  read.  When 
Gib  Bon  had  to  trust  to  travellers'  tales  for  a 
description  of  the  Hellespont,  and  the  Rhine  was 
chiefly  familiar  to  English  students  through  the 
medium  of  Caesar's  Commentaries,  it  behooved 
every  globe-trotter,  for  whatever  distance,  to 
describe  to  the  best  of  his  ability  the  things  that 
he  had  seen.  Doctor  Johnson,  familiar  with  little 
else  than  the  view  down  Fleet  Street,  could  read 
the  description  of  a  Yorkshire  moor  with  pleasure 
and  with  profit.  To  a  Cockney  who  had  never 
seen  higher  ground  than  the  Hog's  Back  in  Sur- 
rey, an  account  of  Snowdon  must  have  appeared 
exciting.  But  we,  or  rather  the  steam  engine 
and  the  camera  for  us,  have  changed  all  that. 
The  man  who  plays  tennis  every  year  at  the  foot 
of  the  Matterhorn,  and  billiards  on  the  summit 
of  the  Rigi,  does  not  thank  you  for  an  elaborate 
and  painstaking  description  of  the  Grampian 
Hills.  To  the  average  man,  who  has  seen  a 

101 


T'hree  Men   on    Wheels 

dozen  oil  paintings,  a  hundred  photographs,  a 
thousand  pictures  in  the  illustrated  journals,  and 
a  couple  of  panoramas  of  Niagara,  the  word- 
painting  of  a  waterfall  is  tedious. 

An  American  friend  of  mine,  a  cultured  gentle- 
man, who  loved  poetry  well  enough  for  its  own 
sake,  told  me  that  he  had  obtained  a  more  correct 
and  more  satisfying  idea  of  the  Lake  district  from 
an  eighteen-penny  book  of  photographic  views 
than  from  all  the  works  of  Coleridge,  Southey 
and  Wordsworth  put  together.  I  also  remember 
his  saying,  concerning  this  subject  of  scenery  in 
literature,  that  he  would  thank  an  author  as 
much  for  writing  an  eloquent  description  of 
what  he  had  just  had  for  dinner.  But  this  was 
in  reference  to  another  argument,  namely,  the 
proper  province  of  each  art ;  my  friend  maintain- 
ing that,  just  as  canvas  and  colour  were  the  wrong 
mediums  for  story-telling,  so  word-painting  was, 
at  its  best,  but  a  clumsy  method  of  conveying 
impressions  that  could  much  better  be  received 
through  the  eye. 

As  regards  the  question,  there  also  lingers  in 
my  memory  very  distinctly  a  hot  school  after- 
noon. The  class  was  for  English  literature,  and 
the  proceedings  commenced  with  the  reading  of 
a  certain  lengthy  but  otherwise  unobjectionable 
poem.  The  author's  name,  I  am  ashamed  to 
say,  I  have  forgotten,  together  with  the  title  of 
the  poem.  The  reading  finished,  we  closed  our 


The    Universal  Educator 

books,  and  the  Professor,  a  kindly,  white-haired 
old  gentleman,  suggested  our  giving  in  our  own 
words  an  account  of  what  we  had  just  read. 


"c  ComeJ  urged  the  Professor" 

"  Tell  me,"  said  the  Professor  encouragingly, 
"what  it  is  all  about." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  the  first  boy  —  he  spoke 
with  bowed  head  and  evident  reluctance,  as  though 

103 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

the  subject  were  one  which,  left  to  himself,  he 
would  never  have  mentioned  — "  it  is  about  a 
maiden." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  the  Professor,  "  but  I  want  you 
to  tell  me  in  your  own  words.  We  do  not  speak 
of  a  maiden,  you  know  ;  we  say  a  girl.  Yes,  it  is 
about  a  girl ;  go  on." 

"  A  girl,"  repeated  the  top  boy,  the  substitution 
apparently  increasing  his  embarrassment,  "who 
lived  in  a  wood." 

"  What  sort  of  a  wood  ?  "  asked  the  Professor. 

The  first  boy  examined  his  ink-pot  carefully, 
and  then  looked  at  the  ceiling. 

"  Come,"  urged  the  Professor,  growing  impa- 
tient ;  "  you  have  been  reading  about  this  wood 
for  the  last  ten  minutes.  Surely  you  can  tell  me 
something  about  it." 

"  The  gnarly  trees,  their  twisted  branches  —  " 
recommenced  the  top  boy. 

"  No,  no,"  interrupted  the  Professor ;  "  I  do 
not  want  you  to  repeat  the  poem.  I  want  you  to 
tell  me  in  your  own  words  what  sort  of  a  wood 
it  was  where  the  girl  lived." 

The  Professor  tapped  his  foot  impatiently  ;  the 
top  boy  made  a  dash  for  it. 

"  Please,  sir,  it  was  the  usual  sort  of  a  wood." 

The  Professor  gave  up  the  top  boy  as  hopeless. 

"  Tell  him  what  sort  of  a  wood,"  said  he,  point- 
ing to  the  second  lad. 

The  second  boy  said  it  was  a  "  green  wood." 
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Th £    Universal  Educator 

This  annoyed  the  Professor  still  more ;  he  called 
the  second  boy  a  blockhead,  though  really  I  can- 
not see  why,  and  passed  on  to  the  third,  who  for 
the  last  half  minute  had  been  sitting  apparently 
on  hot  plates,  with  his  right  arm  waving  up  and 
down  like  a  distracted  semaphore  signal.  He 
would  have  had  to  say  it  the  next  second  whether 
the  Professor  had  asked  him  or  not ;  he  was  red 
in  the  face,  holding  in  his  knowledge. 

"  A  dark  and  gloomy  wood,"  shouted  the  third 
boy,  with  much  relief  to  his  feelings. 

"A  dark  and  gloomy  wood,"  repeated  the 
Professor,  with  evident  approval.  "  And  why  was 
it  dark  and  gloomy  ?  " 

The  third  boy  was  still  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"  Because  the  sun  could  not  get  inside  it." 

The  Professor  felt  he  had  discovered  the  poet 
of  the  class. 

"  Because  the  sun  could  not  get  into  it,  or  bet- 
ter, because  the  sunbeams  could  not  penetrate. 
And  why  could  not  the  sunbeams  penetrate 
there  ? " 

"  Please,  sir,  because  the  leaves  were  too  thick." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Professor.  "The  girl 
lived  in  a  dark  and  gloomy  wood,  through  the 
leafy  canopy*  of  which  the  sunbeams  were  unable 
to  pierce.  Now,  what  grew  in  this  wood  ?  "  He 
pointed  to  the  fourth  boy. 

"  Please,  sir,  trees,  sir." 

"  And  what  else  ?  " 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

"  Toadstools,  sir."     This  after  a  pause. 

The  Professor  was  not  quite  sure  about  the 
toadstools,  but  on  referring  to  the  text  he  found 
that  the  boy  was  right ;  toadstools  had  been 
mentioned. 

"  Quite  right,"  admitted  the  Professor ;  "  toad- 
stools grew  there.  And  what  else  ?  What  do 
you  ''find  underneath  trees  in  a  wood  ? " 

"  Please,  sir,  earth,  sir." 

"  No,  no  ;  what  grows  in  a  wood  besides  trees  ?  " 

"  Oh,  please,  sir,  bushes,  sir." 

"  Bushes  ;  very  good.  Now  we  are  getting  en. 
In  this  wood  there  were  trees  and  bushes.  And 
what  else?" 

He  pointed  to  a  small  boy  near  the  bottom 
who,  having  decided  that  the  wood  was  too  far 
off  to  be  of  any  annoyance  to  himself  individually, 
was  occupying  his  leisure  playing  noughts  and 
crosses  against  himself.  Vexed  and  bewildered, 
but  feeling  it  necessary  to  add  something  to  the 
inventory,  he  hazarded  blackberries.  This  was  a 
mistake ;  the  poet  had  not  mentioned  blackberries. 

"  Of  course  Klobstock  would  think  of  some- 
thing to  eat,"  commented  the  Professor,  who 
prided  himself  on  his  ready  wit.  This  raised  a 
laugh  against  Klobstock,  and  pleased  the  Professor. 

"  You,"  continued  he,  pointing  to  a  boy  in  the 
middle ;  "  what  else  was  there  in  this  wood  be- 
sides trees  and  bushes  ?  " 

"  Please,  sir,  there  was  a  torrent  there." 
106 


Th  e    Universal  Educator 

"  Quite  right ;  and  what  did  the  torrent  do  ?  " 

"  Please,  sir,  it  gurgled." 

"  No,  no.     Streams  gurgle,  torrents " 

"  Roar,  sir." 

"  It  roared.     And  what  made  it  roar  ?  "  % 

This  was  a  poser.  One  boy  —  he  was  not  our 
prize  intellect,  I  admit  —  suggested  the  girl.  To 
help  us,  the  Professor  put  his  question  in  another 
form,  — 

"  When  did  it  roar  ?  " 

Our  third  boy,  again  coming  to  our  rescue, 
explained  that  it  roared  when  it  fell  down  among 
the  rocks.  I  think  some  of  us  had  a  vague  idea 
that  it  must  have  been  a  cowardly  torrent  to  make 
such  a  noise  about  a  little  thing  like  this  ;  a 
pluckier  torrent,  we  felt,  would  have  got  up  and 
gone  on,  saying  nothing  about  it.  A  torrent  that 
roared  every  time  it  fell  upon  a  rock  we  deemed 
a  poor-spirited  torrent ;  but  the  Professor  seemed 
quite  content  with  it. 

"  And  what  lived  in  this  wood  beside  the  girl  ?  " 
was  the  next  question. 

"  Please,  sir,  birds,  sir." 

"  Yes,  birds  lived  in  this  wood.     What  else  ?  " 

Birds  seemed  to  have  exhausted  our  ideas. 

"  Come,"  said  the  Professor,  "  what  are  those 
animals  with  tails,  that  run  up  trees  ? " 

We  thought  for  a  while,  then  one  of  us  sug- 
gested cats. 

This  was  an  error ;  the  poet  had  said  nothing 
107 


Th  r  e  e   M en   on    W '  h eels 

about  cats  ;  squirrels  was  what  the  Professor  was 
trying  to  get. 

I  do  not  recall  much  more  about  this  wood  in 
detail.  I  only  recollect  that  the  sky  was  intro- 
duced into  it.  In  places  where  there  occurred  an 
opening  among  the  trees  you  could  by  looking 
up  see  the  sky  above  you ;  very  often  there  were 
clouds  in  the  sky,  and  occasionally,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  the  girl  got  wet. 

I  have  dwelt  upon  this  incident  because  it  seems 
to  me  suggestive  of  the  whole  question  of  scenery 
in  literature.  I  could  not  at  the  time,  I  cannot 
now,  understand  why  the  top  boy's  summary  was 
not  sufficient.  With  all  due  deference  to  the 
poet,  whoever  he  may  have  been,  one  cannot  but 
acknowledge  that  his  wood  was,  and  could  not  b*e 
otherwise  than,  "  the  usual  sort  of  a  wood." 

I  could  describe  the  Black  Forest  to  you  at 
great  length.  I  could  translate  to  you  Hebel,  the 
poet  of  the  Black  Forest.  I  could  write  pages 
concerning  its  rocky  gorges  and  its  smiling  val- 
leys, its  pine-clad  slopes,  its  rock-crowned  sum- 
mits, its  foaming  rivulets  (where  the  tidy  German 
has  not  condemned  them  to  flow  respectably 
through  wooden  troughs  or  drainpipes),  its  white 
villages,  its  lonely  farmsteads. 

But  I  am  haunted  by  the  suspicion  you  might 
skip  all  this.  Were  you  sufficiently  conscientious 
—  or  weak-minded  enough  —  not  to  do  so,  I 
should,  all  said  and  done,  succeed  in  conveying 

1 08 


Th e    Universal  Educator 

to  you  only  an  impression  much  better  summed 
up  in  the  simple  words  of  the  unpretentious 
guide-book : 

"  A  picturesque,  mountainous  district,  bounded 
on  the  south  and  the  west  by  the  plain  of  the 
Rhine,  towards  which  its  spurs  descend  precipi- 
tately. Its  geological  formation  consists  chiefly 
of  variegated  sandstone  and  granite ;  its  lower 
heights  being  covered  with  extensive  pine  forests. 
It  is  well  watered  with  numerous  streams,  while 
its  populous  valleys  are  fertile  and  well  cultivated. 
The  inns  are  good  ;  but  the  local  wines  should  be 
partaken  of  by  the  stranger  with  discretion." 


109 


VI.  — AN   AQUATIC  ADVENTURE 
AT   HAMBURG 

WE  arrived  at  Hamburg  on  Friday, 
after   a   smooth    and   uneventful 
voyage ;  and  from  Hamburg  we 
travelled    to    Berlin    by   way    of 
Hanover.      It   is    not   the    most 
direct  route.     I  can  only  account  for  our  visit  to 
Hanover,  as  the  Darkey  accounted  to  the  magis- 
trate for  his  appearance  in  the  Deacon's  poultry 
yard. 

"  Yes,  sah,  what  the  constable  sez  is  quite  true, 
sah  ;  I  wuz  dar,  sah." 

"  Oh,  so  you  admit  it  ?  And  what  were  you 
doing  with  a  sack,  pray,  in  Deacon  Abraham's 
poultry  yard  at  twelve  o'clock  at  night  ?  " 

"  I  'se  gwine  ter  tell  yer,  sah ;  yes,  sah.      I  'd 
been  to  Massa  Jordan's  wid  a  sack  of  melons. 
Yes,  sah  ;  an'  Massa  Jordan  he  wuz  very  'greeable, 
an'  ax'd  me  fer  ter  come  in." 
"Well?" 
"  Yes,  sah,  very  'greeable  man  is  Massa  Jordan. 

An'  dar  we  sat  a-talkin'  an'  a-talkin' " 

"  Very  likely.  What  we  want  to  know  is  what 
you  were  doing  in  the  Deacon's  poultry  yard  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,  dat  's  what  I  'se  comin'  to.  It  wuz 
ver'  late  'fore  I  left  Massa  Jordan's,  an'  den  I  sez 

no 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

ter  mysel',  sez  I,  now  yer  jest  step  out  wid  yer 
best  leg  foremost,  Ulysses,  case  yer  gets  inter 
trouble  wid  de  ole  woman.  Ver'  talkative  woman 
she  is,  sah,  very " 

"  Yes,  never  mind  her ;  there  are  other  people 
very  talkative  in  this  town  besides  your  wife. 
Deacon  Abraham's  house  is  half  a  mile  out  of 
your  way  home  from  Mr.  Jordan's.  How  did 
you  get  there  ?  " 

"  Dat  's  what  I  'm  a-gwine  ter  explain,  sah." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that.  And  how  do  you  pro- 
pose to  do  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  'se  thinking  sah,  I  must  ha'  digressed." 

I  take  it  we  digressed  a  little. 

At  first,  from  some  reason  or  other,  Hanover 
strikes  you  as  an  uninteresting  town,  but  it  grows 
upon  you.  It  is  in  reality  two  towns :  a  place  of 
broad,  modern,  handsome  streets  and  tasteful 
gardens,  side  by  side  with  a  sixteenth  century 
town,  where  old  timbered  houses  overhang  the 
narrow  lanes ;  where  through  low  archways  one 
catches  glimpses  of  galleried  courtyards,  once 
often  thronged,  no  doubt,  with  troops  of  horse, 
or  blocked  with  lumbering  coach  and  six,  waiting 
its  rich  merchant  owner  and  his  fat,  placid  Frau  ; 
but  where  now  children  and  chickens  scuttle  at 
their  will,  while  over  the  carved  balconies  hang 
dingy  clothes  a-drying. 

A  singularly  English  atmosphere  hangs  over 
Hanover,  especially  on  Sundays,  when  its  shut- 
in 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

tered  shops  and  clanging  bells  give  to  it  the  sug- 
gestion of  a  sunnier  London.  Nor  was  this 
British  Sunday  atmosphere  apparent  only  to 
myself,  else  I  might  have  attributed  it  to  imagi- 
nation ;  even  George  felt  it.  Harris  and  I, 
returning  from  a  short  stroll  with  our  cigars  after 
lunch  on  the  Sunday  afternoon,  found  him 
placidly  slumbering  in  the  smoke-room's  easiest 
chair. 

"  After  all,"  said  Harris,  "  there  is  something 
about  the  British  Sunday  that  appeals  to  the  man 
with  English  blood  in  his  veins.  I  should  be 
sorry  to  see  it  altogether  done  away  with,  let  the 
new  generation  say  what  it  will." 

And  taking  one  each  end  of  the  ample  settee, 
we  kept  George  company. 

To  Hanover  one  should  go,  they  say,  to  learn 
the  best  German.  The  disadvantage  is  that  out- 
side Hanover,  which  is  only  a  small  province, 
nobody  understands  this  best  German.  Thus 
you  have  to  decide  whether  to  speak  good  Ger- 
man and  remain  in  Hanover  or  bad  German  and 
travel  about.  Germany  being  separated  so  many 
centuries  into  a  dozen  principalities  is  unfortunate 
in  possessing  a  variety  of  dialects.  Germans 
from  Posen  wishful  to  converse  with  men  of 
Wurtemberg  have  to  talk  as  often  as  not  in 
French  or  English  ;  and  young  ladies  who  have 
received  an  expensive  education  in  Westphalia 
surprise  and  disappoint  their  parents  by  being 

112 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

unable  to  understand  a  word  said  to  them  in 
Mecklenberg.  An  English-speaking  foreigner, 
it  is  true,  would  find  himself  equally  nonplussed 
among  the  Yorkshire  wolds,  or  in  the  purlieus  of 
Whitechapel ;  but  the  cases  are  not  on  all  fours. 
Throughout  Germany  it  is  not  only  in  the  country 
districts  and  among  the  uneducated  that  dialects 
are  maintained.  Every  province  has  practically 
its  own  language,  of  which  it  is  proud  and 
retentive.  An  educated  Bavarian  will  admit  to 
you  that  academically  speaking  the  North  Ger- 
man is  more  correct;  but  he  will  continue  to 
speak  South  German,  and  to  teach  it  to  his 
children. 

In  the  course  of  the  century  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  Germany  will  solve  her  difficulty  in 
this  respect  by  speaking  English.  Every  boy 
and  girl  in  Germany,  above  the  peasant  class, 
speaks  English.  Were  English  pronunciation 
less  arbitrary  there  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  but 
that  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  years,  compara- 
tively speaking,  it  would  become  the  language  of 
the  world.  All  foreigners  agree  that  grammati- 
cally it  is  the  easiest  language  of  any  to  learn.  A 
German,  comparing  it  with  his  own  language, 
where  every  word  in  every  sentence  is  governed 
by  at  least  four  distinct  and  separate  rules,  tells 
you  that  the  English  language  has  no  grammar. 
A  good  many  English  people  would  seem  to  have 
come  to  the  same  conclusion  ;  but  they  are  wrong. 

8  113 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    TFh  eels 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  an  English  grammar, 
and  one  of  these  days  our  schools  will  recognise 
the  fact,  and  it  will  be  taught  to  our  children, 
penetrating  maybe  even  into  literary  and  journal- 
istic circles.  But  at  present  we  appear  to  agree 
with  the  foreigner  that  it  is  a  quantity  neglectable. 
English  pronunciation  is  the  stumbling-block  to 
our  progress.  English  spelling  would  seem  to 
have  been  designed  chiefly  as  a  disguise  to  pro- 
nunciation. It  is  a  clever  idea,  calculated  to  check 
presumption  on  the  part  of  the  foreigner ;  but  for 
that  he  would  learn  it  in  a  year. 

For  they  have  a  way  of  teaching  languages  in 
Germany  that  is  not  our  way ;  and  the  conse- 
quence is  that  when  the  German  youth  or  maiden 
leaves  the  gymnasium  or  high  school  at  fifteen,  it 
(as  in  German  one  conveniently  may  say)  can 
understand  and  speak  the  tongue  it  has  been 
learning.  In  England  we  have  a  method  that 
for  obtaining  the  least  possible  result  at  the 
greatest  possible  expenditure  of  time  and  money 
is  perhaps  unequalled.  An  English  boy  who 
has  been  through  a  good  middle-class  school  in 
England  can  talk  to  a  Frenchman,  slowly  and 
with  difficulty,  about  female  gardeners  and  aunts, 
conversation  which,  to  a  man  possessed  perhaps 
of  neither,  is  liable  to  pall.  Possibly,  if  he  be  a 
bright  exception,  he  may  be  able  to  tell  the  time, 
or  make  a  few  guarded  observations  concerning  the 
weather.  No  doubt  he  could  repeat  a  goodly  num- 

114 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

her  of  irregular  verbs  by  heart,  only,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  few  foreigners  care  to  listen  to  their  own 
irregular  verbs,  recited  by  young  Englishmen. 
Likewise  he  might  be  able  to  remember  a  choice 
selection  of  grotesquely  involved  French  idioms, 
such  as  no  modern  Frenchman  has  ever  heard  or 
understands  when  he  does  hear. 

The  explanation  is  that,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  he  has  learned  French  from  an  Ahn's  First 
Course.  The  history  of  this  famous  work  is 
remarkable  and  instructive.  The  book  was 
originally  written  for  a  joke  by  a  witty  French- 
man who  had  resided  for  some  years  in  England. 
He  intended  it  as  a  satire  upon  the  conversational 
powers  of  British  society.  From  this  point  of 
view  it  was  distinctly  good.  He  submitted  it  to 
a  London  publishing  firm.  The  manager  was  a 
shrewd  man.  He  read  the  book  through.  Then 
he  sent  for  the  author. 

"  This  book  of  yours,"  said  he  to  the  author, 
"  is  very  clever.  I  have  laughed  over  it  myself 
till  the  tears  came." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  say  so,"  replied 
the  pleased  Frenchman.  "  I  tried  to  be  truthful 
without  being  unnecessarily  offensive." 

"  It  is  most  amusing,"  concurred  the  manager; 
"  and  yet,  published  as  a  harmless  joke  I  feel  it 
would  fail." 

The  author's  face  fell. 

"  Its  humour,"  proceeded  the  manager,  "  would 


T'hree   Men   on    TFheels 

be  denounced  as  forced  and  extravagant.  It 
would  amuse  the  thoughtful  and  intelligent,  but 
from  a  business  point  of  view  that  portion  of  the 
public  is  never  worth  consideration. 

cc  But  I  have  an  idea,"  continued  the  manager. 
He  glanced  around  the  rdbm  to  be  sure  they 
were  alone  and,  leaning  forward,  sunk  his  voice 
to  a  whisper. 

"  My  notion  is  to  publish  it  as  a  serious  work 
for  the  use  of  schools  !  " 

The  author  stared,  speechless. 

"  I  know  the  English  schoolman,"  said  the 
manager;  "this  book  will  appeal  to  him.  It 
will  exactly  fit  in  with  his  method.  Nothing 
sillier,  nothing  more  useless  for  the  purpose  will 
he  ever  discover.  He  will  smack  his  lips  over 
the  book,  as  a  puppy  licks  up  blacking." 

The  author,  sacrificing  art  to  greed,  consented. 
They  altered  the  title  and  added  a  vocabulary, 
but  left  the  book  otherwise  as  it  was. 

The  result  is  known  to  every  schoolboy. 
"  Ahn  "  became  the  palladium  of  English  philo- 
logical education.  If  it  no  longer  retains  its 
ubiquity  it  is  because  something  even  less  adapt- 
able to  the  object  in  view  has  been  since  invented. 

Lest,  in  spite  of  all,  the  British  schoolboy 
should  obtain  even  from  the  like  of  Ahn  some 
glimmering  of  French,  the  British  educational 
method  further  handicaps  him  by  bestowing  upon 
him  the  assistance  of  what  is  termed  in  the  pros- 
it 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

pectus  "A  Native  Professor."  This  native  French 
gentleman,  who,  by  the  by,  is  generally  a  Belgian, 
is  no  doubt  a  most  worthy  person,  and  can,  it  is 
true,  understand  and  speak  his  own  language  with 
tolerable  fluency.  There  his  qualifications  cease. 
Invariably  he  is  a  man  with  a  quite  remarkable 
inability  to  teach  anybbdy  anything.  Indeed, 
he  would  seem  to  be  chosen  not  so  much  as  an 
instructor  as  an  amuser  of  youth.  He  is  always 
a  comic  figure.  No  Frenchman  of  a  dignified 
appearance  would  be  engaged  for  any  English 
school.  If  he  possess  by  nature  a  few  harmless 
peculiarities,  calculated  to  cause  merriment,  so 
much  the  more  is  he  esteemed  by  his  employers. 
The  class  naturally  regards  him  as  an  animated 
joke.  The  two  to  four  hours  a  week  that  are  de- 
liberately wasted  on  this  philological  farce  are 
looked  forward  to  by  the  boys  as  a  comic  interlude 
in  an  otherwise  monotonous  existence.  And 
then,  when  the  proud  parent  takes  his  son  and 
heir  to  Dieppe  merely  to  discover  that  the  lad 
does  not  know  enough  to  call  a  cab,  he  abuses 
not  the  system  but  its  innocent  victim. 

I  confine  my  remarks  to  French,  because  that 
is  the  only  language,  we  attempt  to  teach  our 
youth.  An  English  boy  who  could  speak  Ger- 
man would  be  looked  down  upon  as  unpatriotic. 
Why  we  waste  time  in  teaching  even  French 
according  to  this  method  I  have  never  been 
able  to  understand.  A  perfect  unacquaintance 

117 


r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

with  a  language  is  respectable.  But  putting  aside 
comic  journalists  and  lady  novelists,  for  whom  it 
is  a  business  necessity,  this  smattering  of  French 
which  we  are  so  proud  to  possess  only  serves  to 
render  us  ridiculous. 

In  the  German  school  the  method  is  somewhat 
different.  One  hour  every  day  is  devoted  to 
the  same  language.  The  idea  is  not  to  give  the 
lad  time  between  each  lesson  to  forget  what  he 
learned  at  the  last ;  the  idea  is  for  him  to  get  on. 
There  is  no  comic  foreigner  provided  for  his 
amusement.  .The  desired  language  is  taught  by 
a  German  schoolmaster  who  knows  it  inside  and 
out  as  thoroughly  as  he  knows  his  own.  May- 
be this  system  does  not  provide  the  German 
youth  with  that  perfection  of  foreign  accent  for 
which  the  British  tourist  is  in  every  land  remark- 
able, but  it  has  other  advantages.  The  boy  does 
not  call  his  master  "  Froggy,"  or  "  Sausage,"  nor 
prepare  for  the  French  or  English  hour  any 
exhibition  of  homely  wit  whatever.  He  just  sits 
there,  and  for  his  own  sake  tries  to  learn  that 
foreign  tongue  with  as  little  trouble  to  everybody 
concerned  as  possible.  When  he  has  left  school 
he  can  talk,  not  about  penknives  and  gardener's 
aunts  merely,  but  about  European  politics,  his- 
tory, Shakespeare,  or  the  musical  glasses,  accord- 
ing to  the  turn  the  conversation  may  take. 

Viewing  the  German  people  from  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  standpoint,  it  may  be  that  in  this  book 

118 


» 

An   Aquatic  Adventure 

I  shall  find  occasion  to  criticise  them  ;  but  on 
the  other  hand,  there  is  much  that  we  might 
learn  from  them ;  and  in  the  matter  of  common 
sense  as  applied  to  education  they  can  give  us 
ninety-nine  in  a  hundred  and  beat  us  with  one 
hand. 

The  beautiful  wood  of  the  Eilenriede  bounds 
Hanover  on  the  south  and  west,  and  here  occurred 
a  sad  drama  in  which  Harris  took  a  prominent 
part.  We  were  riding  our  machines  through 
this  wood  on  the  Monday  afternoon  in  company 
with  many  other  cyclists,  for  it  is  a  favourite  re- 
sort with  Hanoverians  on  a  sunny  afternoon,  and 
its  shady  pathways  are  then  filled  with  happy, 
thoughtless  folk.  Among  them  rode  a  young 
and  beautiful  girl  on  a  machine  that  was  new. 
She  was  evidently  a  novice  on  the  bicycle.  One 
felt  instinctively  that  there  would  come  a  moment 
when  she  would  require  help,  and  Harris  with 
his  accustomed  chivalry  suggested  we  should 
keep  near  her.  Harris,  as  he  occasionally  ex- 
plains to  George  and  to  myself,  has  daughters 
of  his  own  —  or  to  speak  more  correctly,  a 
daughter  —  who  as  the  years  progress  will  no 
doubt  cease  practising  Catherine  wheels  in  the 
front  garden,  and  will  grow  up  into  a  beautiful 
and  respectable  young  lady.  This  naturally 
gives  Harris  an  interest  in  all  beautiful  girls  up 
to  the  age  of  thirty-five  or  thereabouts  ;  they 
remind  him,  so  he  says,  of  home. 

119 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

We  had  ridden  for  about  two  miles,  when  we 
noticed,  a  little  ahead  of  us  in  a  space  where  five 
ways  met,  a  man  with  a  hose,  watering  the  roads. 
The  pipe,  supported  at  each  joint  by  a  pair  of  tiny 
wheels,  writhed  after  him  as  he  moved,  suggesting 
a  gigantic  worm,  from  whose  open  neck,  as  the 
man,  gripping  it  firmly  in  both  hands,  pointed 
it  now  this  way  and  now  that,  now  elevating  it, 
now  depressing  it,  poured  a  strong  stream  of 
water  at  the  rate  of  about  a  gallon  a  second. 

"  What  a  much  better  method  than  ours,"  ob- 
served Harris  enthusiastically.  Harris  is  inclined 
to  be  chronically  severe  on  all  British  institutions. 
"  How  much  simpler,  quicker,  and  more  econom- 
ical !  You  see,  one  man  by  this  method  can  in 
five  minutes  water  a  stretch  of  road  that  would 
take  us  with  our  clumsy  lumbering  cart  half  an 
hour  to  cover." 

George,  who  was  riding  behind  me  on  the  tan- 
dem, said :  "  Yes,  and  it  is  also  a  method  by 
which  with  a  little  carelessness  a  man  could  cover 
a  good  many  people  in  a  good  deal  less  time  than 
they  could  get  out  of  the  way."  George,  the 
opposite  to  Harris,  is  British  to  the  core.  I 
remember  George  quite  patriotically  indignant 
with  Harris  once  for  suggesting  the  introduction 
of  the  guillotine  into  England. 

"  It  is  so  much  neater,"  said  Harris. 

"  I  don't  care  if  it  is,"  said  George  ;  "  I  'm  an 
Englishman  ;  hanging  is  good  enough  for  me." 

120 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

"  Our  water-cart  may  have  its  disadvantages/1 
continued  George,  "  but  it  can  only  make  you 
uncomfortable  about  the  legs,  and  you  can  avoid 


" c  What  a  much  better  method  than  ours ' ' 

it.  This  is  the  sort  of  machine  with  which  a 
man  could  follow  you  around  the  corner  and 
upstairs/' 

121 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

"  It  fascinates  me  to  watch  them,"  said  Harris. 
"  They  are  so  skilful  I  have  seen  a  man  from 
the  corner  of  a  crowded  square  in  Strassburg 
cover  every  inch  of  ground  and  not  so  much  as 
wet  an  apron-string.  It  is  marvellous  how  they 
judge  their  distance.  They  will  send  the  water 
up  to  your  toes,  and  then  bring  it  over  your 
head  so  that  it  falls  around  your  heels.  They 
can " 

"  Ease  up  a  minute/'  said  George. 

I  said:  "Why?" 

He  said :  "I  am  going  to  get  off  and  watch 
the  rest  of  this  show  from  behind  a  tree.  There 
may  be  great  performers  in  this  line,  as  Harris 
says ;  this  particular  artist  appears  to  me  to  lack 
something.  He  has  just  soused  a  dog,  and  now 
he's  busy  watering  a  sign-post.  I  am  going  to 
wait  till  he  has  finished." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Harris ;  "  he  won't  wet 
you." 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  am  going  to  make 
sure  of,"  answered  George ;  saying  which  he 
jumped  off  and,  taking  up  a  position  behind  a 
remarkably  fine  elm,  pulled  out  and  commenced 
filling  his  pipe. 

I  did  not  care  to  take  the  tandem  on  by  my- 
self, so  I  stepped  off  and  joined  him,  leaving  the 
machine  against  a  tree.  Harris  shouted  some- 
thing or  other  about  our  being  a  disgrace  to  the 
land  that  gave  us  birth,  and  rode  on. 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

The  next  moment  I  heard  a  woman's  cry  6f 
distress.  Glancing  around  the  stem  of  the  tree, 
I  perceived  that  it  proceeded  from  the  young 
and  elegant  lady  before  mentioned,  whom  in  our 
interest  concerning  the  road-waterer  we  had  for- 
gotten. She  was  riding  her  machine  steadily  and 
straightly  through  a  drenching  shower  of  water 
from  the  hose.  She  appeared  to  be  too  paralyzed 
either  to  get  off  or  turn  her  wheel  aside.  Every 
instant  she  was  becoming  wetter,  while  the  man 
with  the  hose,  who  was  either  drunk  or  blind, 
continued  to  pour  water  upon  her  with  utter 
indifference.  A  dozen  voices  yelled  imprecations 
upon  him,  but  he  took  no  heed  whatever. 

Harris,  his  fatherly  nature  stirred  to  its  depths, 
did  at  this  point  what  under  the  circumstances 
was  quite  the  right  and  proper  thing  to  do.  Had 
he  acted  throughout  with  the  same  coolness  and 
judgment  he  then  displayed  he  would  have 
emerged  from  that  incident  the  hero  of  the  hour, 
instead  of,  as  happened,  riding  away  followed  by 
insult  and  imprecation.  Without  a  moment's 
hesitation  he  spurted  at  the  man,  sprang  to  the 
ground,  and  seizing  the  hose  by  the  nozzle,  at- 
tempted to  wrest  it  from  him. 

What  he  ought  to  have  done  —  what  any  man 
retaining  his  common  sense  would  have  done  the 
moment  he  got  his  hands  upon  the  thing  —  was 
to  turn  off  the  tap.  Then  he  might  have  played 
football  with  the  man,  or  battledore  and  shuttle- 

123 


T'b  r  e  e   M  en   on    W^h  eel 


cock  as  he  pleased  ;  and  trie  twenty  or  thirty 
people  who  had  rushed  forward  to  assist  would 
have  only  applauded.  His  idea,  however,  so  he 
explained  to  us  afterwards,  was  to  take  the  hose 
away  from  the  man  and  for  punishment  turn  it 
upon  the  fool  himself.  The  waterman's  idea 
appeared  to  be  the  same  —  namely,  to  retain  the 
hose  as  a  weapon  with  which  to  soak  Harris. 
Of  course,  the  result  was  that  between  them  they 
soused  every  dead  and  living  thing  within  fifty 
yards,  except  themselves.  One  furious  man,  too 
drenched  to  care  what  more  happened  to  him, 
leaped  into  the  arena  and  also  took  a  hand.  The 
three  among  them  proceeded  to  sweep  the  com- 
pass with  that  hose.  They  pointed  it  to  Heaven, 
and  the  water  descended  upon  the  people  in  the 
form  of  an  equinoctial  storm.  They  pointed  it 
downward,  and  sent  the  water  in  rushing  streams 
that  took  people  off  their  feet,  or  caught  them 
about  the  waist-line  and  doubled  them  up. 

Not  one  of  the  three  would  loosen  his  grip 
upon  the  hose  ;  not  one  of  them  thought  to  turn 
the  water  off.  You  might  have  thought  they 
were  struggling  with  some  primeval  force  of 
nature.  In  forty-five  seconds,  so  George  said, 
who  was  timing  it,  they  had  swept  that  circus 
bare  of  every  living  thing  except  one  dog,  who, 
dripping  like  a  water  nymph,  rolled  over  by  the 
force  of  water,  now  on  this  side,  now  on  that,  still 
gallantly  staggered  again  and  again  to  its  feet  to 

124 


"  Proceeded  to  sweep  the  compass  with  that  hose  " 


n 


Aquatic  Adventure 


bark  defiance  at  what  it  evidently  regarded  as  the 
powers  of  hell  let  loose. 

Men  and  women  left  their  machines  upon  the 
ground  and  flew  into  the  woods.  From  behind 
every  tree  of  importance,  peeped  wet,  angry 
heads. 

At  last  there  arrived  upon  the  scene  one  man 
of  sense.  Braving  all  things,  he  crept  to  the  hy- 
drant where  still  stood  the  iron  key,  and  screwed 
it  down.  And  then  from  forty  trees  began  to 
creep  more  or  less  soaked  human  beings,  each 
one  with  something  to  say. 

At  first  I  fell  to  wondering  whether  a  stretcher 
or  a  clothesbasket  would  be  the  more  useful  for 
the  conveyance  of  Harris*  remains  back  to  the 
hotel.  I  consider  that  George's  promptness  on 
that  occasion  saved  Harris*  life.  Being  dry,  and 
therefore  able  to  run  quicker,  he  was  there  before 
the  crowd.  Harris  was  for  explaining  things,  but 
George  cut  him  short. 

"  You  get  on  that/'  said  George,  handing  him 
his  bicycle,  "  and  go.  They  don't  know  we 
belong  to  you,  and  you  may  trust  to  us  implicitly 
not  to  reveal  the  secret.  We  '11  hang  about  be- 
hind and  get  in  their  way.  Ride  zig-zag  in  case 
they  shoot." 

I  wish  these  papers  to  be  strict  records  of  fact, 
unmarred  by  exaggeration,  and  therefore  I  have 
shown  my  description  of  this  incident  to  Harris, 
lest  anything  beyond  bald  narrative  may  have 


Th  r  e  e   M  en   on    H7h  eels 

crept  into  it.  Harris  maintains  it  is  exaggerated; 
he  admits  that  one  or  two  people  may  have  been 
"  sprinkled/'  I  have  offered  to  turn  a  street 
hose  on  him  at  a  distance  of  five  and  twenty  feet 
and  take  his  opinion  afterward  as  to  whether 
"  sprinkled "  is  the  adequate  term ;  but  he  has 
declined  the  test.  Again,  he  insists  there  could 
not  have  been  more  than  half  a  dozen  people,  at 
the  outside,  involved  in  the  catastrophe  —  that 
forty  is  a  ridiculous  misstatement.  I  have  of- 
fered to  return  with  him  to  Hanover  and  make 
strict  inquiry  into  the  matter,  and  this  offer  he 
has  likewise  declined.  Under  these  circum- 
stances I  maintain  that  mine  is  a  true  and  re- 
strained narrative  of  an  event  that  is  by  a  certain 
number  of  Hanoverians  remembered  with  bitter- 
ness unto  this  very  day. 

We  left  Hanover  that  same  evening  and  ar- 
rived at  Berlin  in  time  for  supper  and  an  evening 
stroll.  Berlin  is  a  disappointing  town  :  its  centre 
overcrowded,  its  outlying  parts  lifeless  ;  its  one 
famous  street,  Unter  den  Linden,  an  attempt  to 
combine  Oxford  Street  with  the  Champs  Elysees ; 
singularly  unimposing,  and  much  too  wide  for  its 
size ;  its  theatres  dainty  and  charming,  where 
acting  is  considered  of  more  importance  than 
scenery  or  dress,  where  long  runs  are  unknown, 
successful  pieces  being  played  again  and  again 
but  never  consecutively,  so  that  for  a  week  run- 
ning you  may  go  to  the  same  Berlin  theatre  and 

126 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

see  a  fresh  play  every  night;  its  Opera  House 
unworthy  of  it ;  its  two  music  halls,  with  an  un- 
necessary suggestion  of  vulgarity  and  common- 
ness about  them,  ill-arranged  and  much  too  large 
for  comfort.  In  the  Berlin  cafes  and  restaurants 
the  busy  time  is  from  midnight  on  till  three. 
Yet  most  of  the  people  who  frequent  them  are 
up  again  at  seven.  Either  the  Berliner  has 
solved  the  great  problem  of  modern  life,  how  to 
do  without  sleep,  or,  with  Carlyle,  he  must  be 
looking  forward  to  eternity. 

Personally,  I  know  of  no  other  town  where 
such  late  hours  are  the  vogue,  except  St.  Peters- 
burg. But  your  St.  Petersburger  does  not  get 
up  early  in  the  morning.  At  St.  Petersburg  the 
music  halls,  which  it  is  the  fashionable  thing  to 
attend  after  the  theatre  —  a  drive  to  them  taking 
half  an  hour  in  a  swift  sleigh  —  do  not  practically 
begin  till  twelve.  Through  the  Neva  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  you  have  to  literally  push 
your  way ;  and  the  favourite  trains  for  travellers 
are  those  starting  about  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. These  trains  save  the  Russian  the  trouble 
of  getting  up  early.  He  wishes  his  friends 
"  Good  night,"  and  drives  down  to  the  station 
comfortably  after  supper,  without  putting  the 
house  to  any  inconvenience. 

Potsdam,  the  Versailles  to  Berlin,  is  a  beautiful 
little  town,  situated  among  lakes  and  woods. 
Here  in  the  shady  ways  of  its  quiet,  far-stretch- 

127 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    IPh  eels 

ing  park  of  Sans  Souci  it  is  easy  to  imagine 
lean,  snuffy  Frederick  "  bummelling"  with  shrill 
Voltaire. 

Acting  on  my  advice,  George  and  Harris  con- 
sented not  to  stay  long  in  Berlin,  but  to  push  on 
to  Dresden.  Most  that  Berlin  has  to  show  can 
be  seen  better  elsewhere,  and  we  decided  to  be 
content  with  a  drive  through  the  town.  The 
hotel  porter  introduced  us  to  a  droschke  driver, 
under  whose  guidance,  so  he  assured  us,  we 
should  see  everything  worth  seeing  in  the  short- 
est possible  time.  The  man  himself,  who  called 
for  us  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  was  all  that 
could  be  desired.  He  was  bright,  intelligent  and 
well  informed ;  his  German  was  easy  to  under- 
stand, and  he  knew  a  little  English  with  which  to 
eke  it  out  on  occasion.  With  the  man  himself 
there  was  no  fault  to  be  found,  but  his  horse  was 
the  most  unsympathetic  brute  I  have  ever  sat 
behind. 

He  took  a  dislike  to  us  the  moment  he  saw 
us.  I  was  the  first  to  come  out  of  the  hotel. 
He  turned  his  head,  and  looked  me  up  and  down 
with  a  cold,  glassy  eye ;  and  then  he  looked 
across  at  another  horse,  a  friend  of  his,  that  was 
standing  facing  him.  I  knew  what  he  said.  He 
had  an  expressive  head,  and  he  made  no  attempt 
to  disguise  his  thoughts.  He  said : 

"  Funny  things  one  does  come  across  in  the 
summer  time,  don't  one  ?  " 

128 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

George  followed  me  out  the  next  moment  and 
stood  behind  me.  The  horse  again  turned  his 
head  and  looked.  I  have  never  known  a  horse 


"  The  horse  said  '  Gott  in  Himmel!" 

that  could  twist  himself  as  this  horse  did.  I  have 
seen  a  camelopard  do  tricks  with  his  neck  that 
compelled  one's  attention,  but  this  animal  was 
more  like  the  thing  one  dreams  of  after  a  dusty 
9  129 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

day  at  Ascot,  followed  by  a  dinner  with  six  old 
chums.  If  I  had  seen  his  eyes  looking  at  me 
from  between  his  own  hind  legs  I  doubt  if  I 
should  have  been  surprised.  He  seemed  more 
amused  with  George,  if  anything,  than  with  my- 
self. He  turned  to  his  friend  again. 

"  Extraordinary,  is  n't  it  ?  "  he  remarked.  "  I 
suppose  there  must  be  some  place  where  they 
grow  them,"  and  then  he  commenced  licking  flies 
off  his  own  left  shoulder.  I  began  to  wonder 
whether  he  had  lost  his  mother  when  young,  and 
had  been  brought  up  by  a  cat. 

George  and  I  climbed  in  and  sat  waiting  for 
Harris.  He  came  a  moment  later.  Myself,  I 
thought  he  looked  rather  neat.  He  wore  a  white 
flannel  knickerbocker  suit,  which  he  had  had 
made  especially  for  bicycling  in  hot  weather ;  his 
hat  may  have  been  a  trifle  out  of  the  common, 
but  it  did  keep  the  sun  off. 

The  horse  gave  one  look  at  him,  said  "  Gott 
in  Himmel !  "  as  plainly  as  ever  a  horse  spoke, 
and  started  off  down  Friedrich  Strasse  at  a  brisk 
walk,  leaving  Harris  and  the  driver  standing  on 
the  pavement.  His  owner  called  to  him  to  stop, 
but  he  took  no  notice.  They  ran  after  us,  and 
overtook  us  at  the  corner  of  the  Dorotheen 
Strasse.  I  could  not  catch  what  the  man  said  to 
the  horse  ;  he  spoke  quickly  and  excitedly,  but  I 
gathered  a  few  phrases,  such  as : 

"Got  to  earn  my  living  somehow,  have  n't  I  ?" 
130 


An   Aquatic  Adventure 

"  Who  asked  for  your  opinion  ?  "  "  Ay,  little 
you  care  so  long  as  you  can  guzzle." 

The  horse  cut  the  conversation  short  by  turn- 
ing up  the  Dorotheen  Strasse  on  his  own  account. 
I  think  what  he  said  was  : 

"  Come  on,  then  ;  don't  talk  so  much.  Let's 
get  the  job  over,  and  where  possible  let 's  keep  to 
the  back  streets." 

Opposite  the  Brandenburger  Thor  our  driver 
hitched  the  reins  to  the  whip,  climbed  down  and 
came  around  to  explain  things  to  us.  He  pointed 
out  to  us  the  Thiergarten,  and  then  descanted  to 
us  of  the  Reichstag  House.  He  informed  us  of 
its  exact  height,  length  and  breadth,  after  the 
manner  of  guides.  Then  he  turned  his  attention 
to  the  Gate.  He  said  it  was  constructed  of  sand- 
stone in  imitation  of  the  "Properleer"  in  Athens. 

At  this  point  the  horse,  which  had  been  occu- 
pying its  leisure  licking  its  own  legs,  turned 
around  its  head.  It  did  not  say  anything  ;  it 
just  looked. 

The  man  began  again,  nervously.  This  time 
he  said  it  was  an  imitation  of  the  "  Propeyedliar." 

Here  the  horse  proceeded  up  the  Linden,  and 
nothing  would  persuade  him  not  to  proceed  up 
the  Linden.  His  owner  expostulated  with  him, 
but  he  continued  to  trot  on.  From  the  way  he 
hitched  his  shoulders  as  he  moved  I  somehow 
felt  he  was  saying: 

"  They  've  seen  the  Gate,  have  n't  they  ?    Very 


r  e  e   Men   on    If^h  eels 


well,  that  's  enough.  *  As  for  the  rest,  you  don't 
know  what  you  're  talking  about,  and  they 
would  n't  understand  you  if  you  did.  You  talk 
German." 

It  was  the  same  throughout  the  length  of  the 
Linden.  The  horse  consented  to  stand  still 
sufficiently  long  to  enable  us  to  have  a  good  look 
at  each  sight  and  to  hear  the  name  of  it.  All  ex- 
planation and  description  he  cut  short  by  the 
simple  process  of  moving  on. 

"  What  these  fellows  want,"  he  seemed  to  say 
to  himself,  "is  to  go  home  and  tell  people  they  have 
seen  these  things.  If  I  am  doing  them  an  injus- 
tice, if  they  are  more  intelligent  than  they  look, 
they  can  get  better  information  than  this  old  fool 
of  mine  is  giving  them  from  the  guide-book. 
Who  wants  to  know  how  high  a  steeple  is  ?  You 
don't  remember  it  the  next  five  minutes  when  you 
are  told,  and  if  you  do  it  is  because  you  have  got 
nothing  else  in  your  head.  He  just  tires  me  with 
his  talk.  Why  does  n't  he  hurry  up,  and  let  us 
all  get  home  to  lunch  ?  " 

Upon  reflection,  I  am  not  sure  that  that 
wall-eyed  old  brute  had  not  sense  on  its  side. 
Anyhow,  I  know  there  have  been  occasions,  with 
a  guide,  when  I  would  have  been  glad  of  its 
interference. 

But  one  is  apt  to  "  sin  one's  mercies,"  as  the 
Scotch  say  ;  and  at  the  time  we  cursed  that  horse 
instead  of  blessing  it. 

132 


VII.  — HARRIS   GOES   SHOPPING, 

AT  A  POINT  between  Berlin  and 
Dresden,  George,  who  had  for  the 
last  quarter  of  an  hour  or  so  been 
looking  very  attentively  out  of  the 
window,  said  : 

"Why,  in  Germany  it  is  the  custom  to  put 
the  letter-box  up  a  tree :  why  do  they  not  fix  it 
to  the  front  door,  as  we  do?  I  should  hate 
having  to  climb  up  a  tree  to  get  my  letters. 
Besides,  it  is  not  fair  to  the  postman.  In  addi- 
tion to  being  most  exhausting,  the  delivery  of 
letters  must  to  a  heavy  man,  on  windy  nights,  be 
positively  dangerous  work.  If  they  must  fix  it 
to  a  tree,  why  not  fix  it  lower  down  —  why 
always  among  the  topmost  branches  ? 

"  But  maybe  I  am  misjudging  the  country," 
he  continued,  a  new  idea  occurring  to  him. 
"  Possibly  the  Germans,  who  in  many  matters 
are  ahead  of  us,  have  perfected  a  Pigeon  Post. 
Even  so,  I  cannot  help  thinking  they  would 
have  been  wiser  to  train  the  birds,  while  they 
were  about  it,  to  deliver  the  letters  nearer  the 
ground.  Getting  your  letters  out  of  those  boxes 
must  be  tricky  work  even  to  the  average  middle- 
aged  German." 


'Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

I  followed  his  gaze  out  of  window.     I  said  : 

"  Those  are  not  letter-boxes,  they  are   birds' 

nests.     You  must  understand  this  nation.     The 

German  loves  birds,  but  he  likes  them  tidy.     A 

bird,   left   to   himself,  builds   his    nest  just  any- 


"  '  But  maybe  I  am  misjudging  the  country '  " 

where.  It  is  not  a  pretty  object,  according  to 
the  German  notion  of  prettiness.  There  is  not 
a  bit  of  paint  on  it  anywhere,  not  a  plaster  image 
all  around,  not  even  a  flag.  The  nest  finished, 
the  bird  proceeds  to  live  outside  it.  He  drops 
things  on  to  the  grass ;  twigs,  ends  of  worms, 
all  sorts  of  things.  He  is  indelicate.  He  makes 


Harris   Goes   Shopping 

love,  quarrels  with  his  wife  and  feeds  the  children 
.quite  in  public.  The  German  householder  is 
shocked.  He  says  to  the  bird : 

"  For  many  things  I  like  you.  I  like  to  look 
at  you.  I  like  to  hear  you  sing.  But  I  don't 
like  your  ways.  Take  this  little  box,  and  put 
your  rubbish  inside  where  I  can't  see  it.  Come 
out  when  you  want  to  sing  ;  but  let  your  domes- 
tic arrangements  be  confined  to  the  interior." 

In  Germany  one  breathes  in  love  of  order  with 
the  air  —  in  Germany  the  babies  beat  time  with 
their  rattles  —  and  the  German  bird  has  come  to 
prefer  the  box ;  and  to  regard  with  contempt  the 
few  uncivilized  outcasts  who  continue  to  build 
their  nests  in  trees  and  hedges.  In  course  of 
time,  every  German  bird,  one  is  confident,  will 
have  his  proper  place  in  a  full  chorus.  This 
promiscuous  and  desultory  warbling  of  his  must, 
one  feels,  be  irritating  to  the  precise  German 
mind ;  there  is  no  method  in  it.  The  music- 
loving  German  will  organise  him.  Some  stout 
bird  with  a  specially  well-developed  crop  will  be 
trained  to  conduct  him ;  and,  instead  of  wasting 
himself  in  a  wood  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
he  will,  at  the  advertised  time,  sing  in  a  beer- 
garden,  accompanied  by  a  piano.  Things  are 
drifting  that  way. 

Your  German  likes  Nature,  but  his  idea  of 
Nature  is  a  glorified  Welsh  harp.  He  takes 
great  interest  in  his  garden.  He  plants  seven 

'35 


"Three   Men   on    W^heels 

rose  trees  on  the  north  side,  and  seven  on  the 
south,  and  if  they  do  not  grow  up  all  the  same 
size  and  shape  it  worries  him  so  that  he  cannot 
sleep  of  nights.  Every  flower  he  ties  to  a  stick. 
This  interferes  with  his  view  of  the  flower,  but 
he  has  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  it  is 
there,  and  that  it  is  behaving  itself.  The  lake  is 
lined  with  zinc,  and  once  a  week  he  takes  it  up, 
carries  it  into  the  kitchen  and  scours  it.  In  the 
geometrical  centre  of  the  grass  plot,  which  is 
sometimes  as  large  as  a  tablecloth,  and  is  gener- 
ally railed  around,  he  places  a  china  dog.  The 
Germans  are  very  fond  of  dogs,  but  as  a  rule 
they  prefer  them  of  china.  The  china  dog 
never  digs  holes  in  the  lawn  to  bury  bones,  and 
never  scatters  a  flower-bed  to  the  winds  with  his 
hind  legs.  From  the  German  point  of  view,  he 
is  the  ideal  dog.  He  stays  where  you  put  him, 
and  he  is  never  where  you  do  no't  want  him. 
You  can  have  him  perfect  in  all  points  according 
to  the  latest  requirements  of  the  Kennel  Club,  or 
you  can  indulge  your  own  fancy  and  have  some- 
thing unique.  You  are  not,  as  with  other  dogs, 
limited  to  breed.  In  china,  you  can  have  a  blue 
dog,  or  a  pink  dog.  For  a  little  extra,  you  can 
have  a  double-headed  dog. 

On  a  certain  fixed  date  in  the  autumn  the 
German  stakes  his  flowers  and  bushes  to  the 
earth,  and  covers  them  with  Chinese  matting ; 
and  on  a  certain  fixed  date  in  the  spring  he 

136 


Harris    Goes   Shopping 

uncovers  them,  and  stands  them  up  again ;  if  it 
happen  to  be  an  exceptionally  fine  autumn  or  an 


"  The  Germans  are  very  fond  of  dogs  but  as  a  rule  they 
prefer  them  of  china" 

exceptionally  late  spring,  so  much  the  worse  for 
the  unfortunate  vegetable  ;  no  true  German  would 

'37 


Tb  r  e  e   Men  on    Jf^h  eels 

allow  his  arrangements  to  be  interfered  with  by 
so  unruly  a  thing  as  the  solar  system.  Unable 
to  regulate  the  weather,  he  ignores  it. 

Among  trees  your  German's  favourite  is  the 
poplar.  Disorderly  nations  may  sing  the  charms 
of  the  rugged  oak,  the  spreading  chestnut  or  the 
waving  elm.  To  the  German,  all  such,  with  their 
wilful,  untidy  ways,  are  eyesores.  The  poplar 
grows  where  it  is  planted  and  as  it  is  planted. 
It  has  no  improper  rugged  ideas  of  its  own. 
It  does  not  want  to  wave  or  to  spread  itself.  It 
just  grows  straight  and  upright  as  a  German  tree 
should  grow  ;  and  so,  the  German  is  gradually 
rooting  out  all  other  trees  and  replacing  them 
with  poplars. 

Your  German  likes  the  country,  but  he  prefers 
it  as  the  lady  thought  she  would  the  noble  sav- 
age, more  dressed.  He  likes  his  walk  through 
the  wood  —  to  a  restaurant.  But  the  pathway 
must  not  be  too  steep ;  it  must  have  a  brick 
gutter  running  down  one  side  of  it  to  drain  it, 
and  every  twenty  yards  or  so  it  must  have  its 
seat  on  which  he  can  rest  and  mop  his  brow  ; 
for  your  German  would  no  more  think  of  sitting 
on  the  grass  than  would  an  English  Bishop  dream 
of  rolling  down  One  Tree  Hill.  He  likes  his 
view  from  the  summit  of  the  hill,  but  he  likes  to 
find  there  a  stone  tablet  telling  him  what  to  look 
at,  and  a  table  and  bench  at  which  he  can  sit  to 
partake  of  the  frugal  beer  and  "  belegte  Semmel  " 


Harris    Goes   Shopping 

he  has  been  careful  to  bring  with  him.  If,  in  ad- 
dition, he  can  find  a  police  notice  posted  on  a  tree 
forbidding  him  to  do  something  or  other,  that 
gives  him  an  extra  sense  of  comfort  and  security. 
Your  German  is  not  averse  even  to  wild 
scenery,  provided  it  be  not  too  wild.  But  if  he 
consider  it  too  savage,  he  sets  to  work  to  tame 
it.  I  remember  discovering  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Dresden  a  picturesque  and  narrow  valley  lead- 
ing down  toward  the  Elbe.  The  winding  road- 
way ran  beside  a  mountain  torrent,  which  for  a 
mile  or  so  fretted  and  foamed  over  rocks  and 
boulders  between  wood-covered  banks.  I  fol- 
lowed it  enchanted  until,  turning  a  corner,  I 
suddenly  came  across  a  gang  of  eighty  or  a 
hundred  workmen.  They  were  busy  tidying  up 
that  valley  and  making  that  stream  respectable. 
All  the  stones  that  were  impeding  the  course  of 
the  water  they  were  carefully  picking  out  and 
carting  away.  The  bank  on  either  side  they 
were  bricking  up  and  cementing.  The  over- 
hanging trees  and  bushes,  the  tangled  vines  and 
creepers  they  were  rooting  up  and  trimming 
•down.  A  little  farther  I  came  upon  the  finished 
work  —  the  mountain  valley:  as  it  ought  to  be, 
according  to  German  ideas.  The  water,  now  a 
broad,  sluggish  stream,  flowed  over  a  level, 
gravelly  bed,  between  two  walls  crowned  with 
stone  coping.  At  every  hundred  yards  it  gently 
descended  over  three  shallow  wooden  platforms 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

For  a  space  on  either  side  the  ground  had  been 
cleared  and,  at  regular  intervals,  young  poplars 
planted.  Each  sapling  was  protected  by  a  shield 
of  wicker  work,  and  bossed  by  an  iron  rod.  In 
the  course  of  a  couple  of  years  it  is  the  hope  of 
the  local  council  to  have  "finished"  that  valley 
throughout  its  entire  length,  and  made  it  fit  for 
a  tidy-minded  lover  of  German  Nature  to  walk 
in.  There  will  be  a  seat  every  fifty  yards,  a 
police  notice  every  hundred,  and  a  restaurant 
every  half-mile. 

They  are  doing  the  same  from  the  Memel  to 
the  Rhine.  They  are  just  tidying  up  the  coun- 
try. I  remember  well  the  Wehrthal.  It  was 
once  the  most  romantic  ravine  to  be  found  in  the 
Black  Forest !  The  last  time  I  walked  down  it 
some  hundreds  of  Italian  workmen  were  en- 
camped there,  hard  at  work,  training  the  wild 
little  Wehr  the  way  it  should  go,  bricking  the 
banks  for  it  here,  blasting  the  rocks  for  it  there, 
making  cement  steps  for  it  down  which  it  can 
travel  soberly  and  without  fuss. 

For  in  Germany  there  is  no  nonsense  talked 
about  untrammelled  Nature.  In  Germany  Nature 
has  got  to  behave  herself,  and  not  set  a  bad 
example  to  the  children.  A  German  poet, 
noticing  waters  coming  down  as  Southey  de- 
scribes, somewhat  inexactly,  the  waters  coming 
down  at  Lodore,  would  be  too  shocked  to  stop 
and  write  alliterative  verse  about  them.  He 

140 


Harris    Goes   Shopping 

would  hurry  away  and  at  once  report  them  to 
the  police.  Then  their  foaming  and  their  shriek- 
ing would  be  of  short  duration. 

"  Now  then,  now  then,  what 's  all  this  about  ?  " 
the  voice  of  German  authority  would  say  severely 
to  the  waters  ;  "  we  can't  have  this  sort  of  thing, 
you  know.  Come  down  quietly,  can't  you  ? 
Where  do  you  think  you  are  ?  " 

And  the  local  German  council  would  provide 
those  waters  with  zinc  pipes  and  wooden  troughs 
and  a  cork-screw  staircase,  and  show  them  how 
to  come  down  sensibly,  in  the  German  manner. 

It  is  a  tidy  land,  is  Germany. 

We  reached  Dresden  on  the  Wednesday  even- 
ing, and  stayed  there  over  the  Sunday. 

Taking  one  consideration  with  another,  Dres- 
den is,  perhaps,  the  most  attractive  town  in  Ger- 
many ;  but  it  is  a  place  to  be  lived  in  for  a  while, 
rather  than  visited.  Its  museums  and  galleries, 
its  palaces  and  gardens,  its  beautiful  and  histori- 
cally rich  environment,  provide  pleasure  for  a 
winter  but  bewilder  for  a  week.  It  has  not  the 
gaiety  of  Paris  or  Vienna,  which  quickly  palls  ; 
its  charms  are  more  solidly  German,  and  more 
lasting.  It  is  the  Mecca  of  the  musician.  For 
five  shillings  in  Dresden  you  can  purchase  a 
stall  at  the  opera,  together,  unfortunately,  with 
a  strong  disinclination  ever  again  to  take  the 
trouble  of  sitting  out  a  performance  in  any  Eng- 
lish, French  or  American  opera  house. 

141 


T*h  r  e  e   M  en   on    Jf^b  eels 

The  chief  scandal  of  Dresden  still  centres 
around  August  the  Strong,  "  the  Man  of  Sin," 
as  Carlyle  always  called  him.  His  life-sized 
portrait  hangs  in  the  fine  Zwinger,  which  he  built 
as  an  arena  for  his  wild-beast  fights  when  the 
people  grew  tired  of  them  in  the  market-place ; 
a  beetle-browed,  frankly  animal  man,  but  with  a 
culture  and  taste  that  so  often  wait  upon  ani- 
malism. Modern  Dresden  undoubtedly  owes 
much  to  him. 

But  what  the  stranger  in  Dresden  stares  at 
most  are,  perhaps,  its  electric  trams.  These  huge 
vehicles  flash  through  the  streets  at  from  ten  to 
twenty  miles  an  hour,  taking  curves  and  corners 
after  the  manner  of  an  Irish  car-driven  Every- 
body travels  by  them  excepting  only  officers  in 
uniform,  who  must  not.  Ladies  in  evening  dress, 
going  to  ball  or  opera,  porters  with  their  baskets, 
sit  side  by  side.  They  are  all-important  in  the 
streets,  and  everything  and  everybody  makes 
haste  to  get  out  of  their  way.  If  you  do  not  get 
out  of  their  way,  and  you  still  happen  to  be  alive 
when  picked  up,  then  on  your  recovery  you  are 
fined  for  having  been  in  their  way.  This  teaches 
you  to  be  wary  of  them. 

One  afternoon  Harris  took  a  "  bummel "  by 
himself.  In  the  evening  as  we  sat  listening  to 
the  band  at  the  Belvedere,  Harris  said,  apropos 
of  nothing  in  particular : 

"  These  Germans  have  no  sense  of  humour." 
142 


Harris    Goes   Shopping 

"  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  Why,  this  afternoon,"  he  answered,  "  I 
jumped  on  one  of  those  electric  tram-cars.  I 
wanted  to  see  the  town,  so  I  stood  outside  on 
the  little  platform  —  what  do  you  call  it  ? " 

"  The  Stehplatz"  I  suggested. 

"  That 's  it,"  said  Harris.  "  Well,  you  know 
the  way  they  shake  you  about,  and  how  you  have 
to  look  out  for  the  corners,  and  mind  yourself 
when  they  stop  and  when  they  start  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

"  There  were  about  half  a  dozen  of  us  stand- 
ing there,"  he  continued,  "  and  of  course  I  am 
not  experienced.  The  thing  started  suddenly, 
and  that  jerked  me  backward.  I  fell  against  a 
stout  gentleman,  just  behind  me.  He  could  not 
have  been  standing  very  firmly  himself,  and  he  in 
his  turn  fell  back  against  a  boy  who  was  carrying 
a  trumpet  in  a  green  baize  case.  They  never 
smiled,  neither  the  man  nor  the  boy  with  the 
trumpet;  they  just  stood  there  and  looked  sulky. 
I  was  going  to  say  I  was  sorry,  but  before  I  could 
get  the  words  out  the  tram  suddenly  eased  up,  for 
some  reason  or  other,  and  that,  of  course,  shot  me 
forward  again,  and  I  butted  into  a  whitehaired  old 
chap,  who  looked  to  me  like  a  professor.  Well, 
he  never  smiled  —  never  moved  a  muscle." 

"  Maybe  he  was  thinking  of  something  else," 
I  suggested. 

"That  could  not  have  been  the  case  with  them 
•43 


Three   Men   on    ff^beels 

all,"  replied  Harris ;  "  and  in  the  course  of  that 
journey  I  must  have  fallen  against  every  one  of 
them  at  least  three  times." 

"You  see,"  exclaimed  Harris,  "they  knew 
when  the  corners  were  coming,  and  in  which 
direction  to  brace  themselves.  I,  as  a  stranger, 
was  naturally  at  a  disadvantage.  The  way  I 
rolled  and  staggered  about  that  platform,  clutch- 
ing wildly  now  at  this  man  and  now  at  that,  must 
have  been  really  comic.  I  don't  say  it  was  high- 
class  humour,  but  it  would  have  amused  most 
people.  Those  Germans  seemed  to  see  no 
fun  in  it  whatever — just  seemed  anxious,  that 
was  all.  There  was  one  man,  a  little  man,  who 
stood  with  his  back  against  the  brake;  I  fell 
against  him  five  times :  I  counted  them.  You 
would  have  expected  the  fifth  time  would  have 
dragged  a  laugh  out  of  him,  but  it  did  n't ;  he 
merely  looked  tired.  They  are  a  dull  lot." 

George  also  had  an  adventure  in  Dresden. 
There  was  a  shop  near  the  Altmarkt  in  the  win- 
dow of  which  were  exhibited  some  cushions  for 
sale.  The  proper  business  of  the  shop  was  the 
handling  of  glass  and  china ;  the  cushions  ap- 
peared to  be  in  the  nature  of  an  experiment. 
They  were  very  beautiful  cushions,  hand-em- 
broidered on  satin.  We  often  passed  the  shop, 
and  every  time  George  paused  and  examined 
those  cushions.  He  said  he  thought  his  aunt 
would  like  one. 

144 


Harris    Goes   Shopping 

George  has  been  very  attentive  to  this  aunt  of 
his  during  this  journey.  He  has  written  her 
quite  a  long  letter  every  day,  and  from  every 
town  we  stop  at  he  sends  her  off  a  present.  To 
my  mind,  he  is  overdoing  the  business,  and  more 
than  once  I  have  expostulated  with  him.  His 
aunt  will  get  meeting  other  aunts,  and  talking 
to  them  ;  the  whole  class  will  become  disorganised 
and  unruly.  As  a  nephew,  I  object  to  the  im- 
possible standard  that  George  is  setting  up.  But 
he  will  not  listen. 

Therefore  it  was  that  on  the  Saturday  he  left 
us  after  lunch,  saying  he  would  go  around  to  that 
shop  and  get  one  of  those  cushions  for  his  aunt. 
He  said  he  would  not  be  long,  and  suggested 
our  waiting  for  him. 

We  waited  for  what  seemed  to  me  rather  a 
long  time.  When  he  rejoined  us  he  was  empty 
handed  and  looked  worried.  We  asked  him 
where  was  his  cushion.  He  said  he  had  n't 
got  a  cushion  ;  said  he  had  changed  his  mind ; 
said  he  did  n't  think  his  aunt  would  care  for  a 
cushion.  Evidently  something  was  amiss.  We 
tried  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  it,  but  he  was  not 
communicative.  Indeed,  his  answers  after  our 
twentieth  question  or  thereabouts  became  quite 
short. 

In  the  evening,  however,  when  he  and  I 
happened  to  be  alone,  he  broached  the  subject 
himself.  He  said : 

10  I45 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

"  They  are  somewhat  peculiar  in  some  things, 
these  Germans." 

I  said  :  "  What  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  there  was  that  cushion 
I  wanted." 

"  For  your  aunt  ? "  I  remarked. 

"Why  not?"  he  retorted.  He  was  huffy  in 
a  moment ;  I  never  knew  a  man  so  touchy  about 
an  aunt.  "  Why  should  n't  I  send  a  cushion  to 
my  aunt  ?  " 

"  Don't  get  excited,"  I  replied.  "  I  am  not 
objecting  ;  I  respect  you  for  it." 

He  recovered  his  temper  and  went  on : 

"  There  were  four  in  the  window,  if  you  re- 
member, all  very  much  alike,  and  each  one 
labelled  in  plain  figures  twenty  marks.  I  don't 
pretend  to  speak  German  fluently,  but  I  can 
generally  make  myself  understood  with  a  little 
effort,  and  gather  the  sense  of  what  is  said  to 
me  ;  provided  they  don't  gabble.  I  went  into 
the  shop.  A  young  girl  came  up  to  me  ;  she 
was  a  pretty,  quiet  little  soul,  one  might  almost 
say  demure  ;  not  at  all  the  sort  of  girl  from 
whom  you  would  have  expected  such  a  thing. 
I  was  never  more  surprised  in  all  my  life." 

"Surprised  about  what?  "   I  said. 

George  always  assumes  you  know  the  end  of 
the  story  while  he  is  telling  you  the  beginning  ; 
it  is  an  annoying  method. 

"At  what  happened,"  replied  George;  "at 
146 


Harris   Goes   Shopping 

what  I  am  telling  you.  She  smiled  and  asked 
me  what  I  wanted.  I  understood  that  all  right ; 
there  could  have  been  no  mistake  about  that.  I 
put  down  a  twenty-mark  piece  on  the  counter 
and  said  : 

" c  Please  give  me  a  cushion  ! ' 

"  She  stared  at  me  as  if  I  had  asked  for  a 
feather  bed.  I  thought  maybe  she  had  not 
heard,  so  I  repeated  it  louder.  If  I  had  chucked 
her  under  the  chin  she  could  not  have  looked 
more  surprised  or  indignant. 

"  She  said  she  thought  I  must  be  making  a 
mistake. 

"  I  did  not  want  to  begin  a  long  conversation 
and  find  myself  stranded ;  I  said  there  was  no 
mistake.  I  pointed  to  my  twenty-mark  piece, 
and  repeated  for  the  third  time  that  I  wanted  a 
cushion,  ca  twenty-mark  cushion/ 

"  Another  girl  came  up,  an  elder  girl,  and 
the  first  girl  repeated  to  her  what  I  had  just 
said ;  she  seemed  quite  excited  about  it.  The 
second  girl  did  not  believe  her  —  did  not  think 
I  looked  the  man  who  would  want  a  cushion. 
To  make  sure,  she  put  the  question  to  me 
herself: 

" (  Did  you  say  you  wanted  a  cushion  ? '  she 
asked. 

" c  I  have  said  it  three  times,'  I  answered  ;  c  I 
will  say  it  again  :  I  want  a  cushion/ 

"  She  said:  'Then  you  can't  have  one/ 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

"  I  was  getting  angry  by  this  time.  If  I 
had  n't  really  wanted  the  thing  I  should  have 
walked  out  of  the  shop ;  but  there  the  cushions 
were  in  the  window,  evidently  for  sale.  I  did  n't 
see  why  I  could  n't  have  one. 

ct  I  said:  CI  will  have  one!'  It  is  a  simple 
sentence.  I  said  it  with  determination. 

"  A  third  girl  came  up  at  this  point,  the  three 
representing,  I  fancy,  the  whole  force  of  the  shop. 
She  was  a  bright-eyed,  saucy-looking  little  wench, 
this  last  one.  On  any  other  occasion  I  might 
have  been  pleased  to  see  her  ;  now,  her  coming 
only  irritated  me.  I  did  n't  see  the  need  of  three 
girls  for  this  business. 

"  The  first  two  girls  started  explaining  the 
thing  to  the  third  girl,  and  before  they  were 
half  way  through  the  third  girl  began  to  giggle 
—  she  was  the  sort  of  girl  who  would  giggle  at 
anything.  That  done,  they  fell  to  chattering 
like  Jenny  Wrens,  all  three  together ;  and  be- 
tween every  half-dozen  words  they  looked  across 
at  me ;  and  the  more  they  looked  at  me  the 
more  the  third  girl  giggled ;  and  before  they  had 
finished  they  were  all  three  giggling,  the  little 
idiots  ;  you  might  have  thought  I  was  a  clown, 
giving  a  private  performance. 

"  When  she  was  steady  enough  to  move,  the 
third  girl  came  up  to  me ;  she  was  still  giggling. 
She  said : 

"c  If  you  get  it,  will  you  go? ' 
148 


"  Stood  up  on  tip-toe  and  kissed  me  " 


Harris   Goes   Shopping 

"  I  did  not  quite  understand  her  at  first,  and 
she  repeated  it : 

" c  This  cushion,  when  you  Ve  got  it,  will  you 
go  —  away  —  at  once  ? ' 

"  I  was  only  too  anxious  to  go.  I  told  her  so. 
But  I  added  I  was  not  going  without  it.  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  have  that  cushion  now  if 
I  stopped  in  the  shop  all  night  for  it. 

"  She  rejoined  the  other  two  girls.  I  thought 
they  were  going  to  get  me  the  cushion  and  have 
done  with  the  business.  Instead  of  that,  the 
strangest  thing  possible  happened.  The  two 
other  girls  got  behind  the  first  girl,  all  three  still 
giggling,  Heaven  knows  what  about,  and  pushed 
her  toward  me.  They  pushed  her  close  up  to 
me,  and  then,  before  I  knew  what  was  happen- 
ing, she  put  her  hands  on  my  shoulders,  stood 
up  on  tip-toe,  and  kissed  me.  After  which, 
burying  her  face  in  her  apron,  she  ran  off,  fol- 
lowed by  the  second  girl.  The  third  girl  opened 
the  door  for  me,  and  so  evidently  expected  me 
to  go,  that  in  my  confusion,  I  went,  leaving  my 
twenty  marks  behind  me.  I  don't  say  I  minded 
the  kiss,  though  I  did  not  particularly  want  it, 
while  I  did  want  the  cushion.  I  don't  like  to 
go  back  to  the  shop.  I  cannot  understand  the 
thing  at  all." 

I  said  : ."  What  did  you  ask  for  ?  " 

He  said:  "A  cushion." 

I  said :  "  That  is  what  you  wanted,  I  know. 
149 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

What  I  mean  is,  what  was  the  actual  German 
word  you  said  ?  " 

He  replied  :  "  A  kuss." 

I  said :  "  You  have  nothing  to  complain  of. 
It  is  somewhat  confusing.  A  (  kuss '  sounds  as 
if  it  ought  to  be  a  cushion,  but  it  is  not ;  it  is  a 
kiss ;  while  a  kissen  is  a  cushion.  You  muddled 
up  the  two  words — people  have  done  it  before. 
I  don't  know  much  about  this  sort  of  thing  my- 
self, but  you  asked  for  a  twenty-mark  kiss,  and 
from  your  description  of  the  girl  some  people 
might  consider  the  price  reasonable.  Anyhow,  I 
should  not  tell  Harris.  If  I  remember  rightly, 
he  also  has  an  aunt." 

George  agreed  with  me  it  would  be  better  not. 


VIII.  — THE   REGENERATION 
OF   GEORGE 

WE  WERE  on  our  way  to  Prague 
and    were    waiting    in    the    great 
hall  of  the  Dresden  station  until 
such  time  as  the  Powers-That-Be 
should  permit  us  on  to  the  plat- 
form.    George,  who  had  wandered  to  the  book- 
stall, returned  to  us  with  a  wild  look  in  his  eyes. 
He  said : 

"  I  've  seen  it." 
I  said  :  "  Seen  what  ?  " 

He  was  too  excited  to  answer  intelligently.  He 
said : 

"It's  here.  It's  coming  this  way,  both  of 
them.  If  you  wait  you  '11  see  it  for  yourselves. 
I  'm  not  joking;  it 's  the  real  thing." 

As  is  usual  about  this  period,  some  paragraphs 
more  or  less  serious  had  been  appearing  in  the 
papers  concerning  the  sea  serpent,  and  I  thought 
for  the  moment  he  must  be  referring  to  this.  A 
moment's  reflection,  however,  told  me  that  here 
in  the  middle  of  Europe,  three  hundred  miles 
from  the  coast,  such  a  thing  was  impossible.  Be- 
fore I  could  question  him  further  he  seized  me  by 
the  arm. 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

"  Look  !  "  he  said  ;  "  now  am  I  exaggerating  ?  " 

I  turned  my  head  and  saw  what,  I  suppose,  few 
living  Englishmen  have  ever  seen  before :  the 
travelling  Britisher,  according  to  the  Continental 
idea,  accompanied  by  his  daughter.  They  were 
coming  toward  us  in  the  flesh  and  blood,  unless 
we  were  dreaming,  alive  and  concrete ;  the  Eng- 
lish "Milor"  and  the  English  "  Mees,"  as  for 
generations  they  have  been  portrayed  in  the  Con- 
tinental comic  press  and  upon  the  Continental 
stage.  They  were  perfect  in  every  detail.  The 
man  was  tall  and  thin,  with  sandy  hair,  a  huge 
nose,  and  long  Dundreary  whiskers.  Over  a 
pepper-and-salt  suit  he  wore  a  light  overcoat 
reaching  almost  to  his  heels. 

His  white  helmet  was  ornamented  with  a  green 
veil ;  a  pair  of  opera  glasses  hung  at  his  side,  and 
in  his  lavender-gloved  hand  he  carried  an  alpen- 
stock, a  little  taller  than  himself. 

His  daughter  was  tall  and  angular.  Her  dress 
I  cannot  describe ;  my  grandfather,  poor  gentle- 
man, might  have  been  able  to  do  so ;  it  would 
have  been  more  familiar  to  him.  I  can  only  say 
that  it  appeared  to  me  unnecessarily  short,  exhib- 
iting a  pair  of  ankles  —  if  I  may  be  permitted  to 
refer  to  such  points  —  that  from  an  artistic  point 
of  view  called  rather  for  concealment.  Her  hat 
made  me  think  of  Mrs.  Hemans,  but  why  I  can- 
not explain.  She  wore  side-spring  boots  —  "  pru- 
nella," I  believe,  used  to  be  the  trade  name  — 


Regeneration   of  George 

mittens,  and  a  pince  nez.  She  also  carried  an 
alpenstock  (there  is  not  a  mountain  within  a 
hundred  miles  of  Dresden),  and  a  black  bag 


"  /  turned  my  bead  and  saw  the  travelling  Britisher  " 

strapped  to  her  waist.  Her  teeth  stuck  out  like 
a  rabbit's,  and  her  figure  was  that  of  a  bolster  on 
stilts. 

Harris  rushed  for  his   camera,  and  of  course 
could  not  find  it ;  he  never  can  when  he  wants 

J53 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

it.  Whenever  we  see  Harris  scuttling  up  and 
down,  like  a  lost  dog,  shouting,  "  Where 's  my 
camera  ?  What  the  dickens  have  I  done  with  my 
camera  ?  Don't  either  of  you  remember  where  I 
put  my  camera  ?  "  —  then  we  know  that  for  the 
first  time  that  day  he  has  come  across  something 
worth  photographing.  Later  on,  he  remembered 
it  was  in  his  bag  ;  that  is  where  it  would  be  on  an 
occasion  like  this. 

They  were  not  content  with  appearance ;  they 
acted  the  thing  to  the  letter.  They  walked 
gaping  round  them  at  every  step.  The  gentle- 
man had  an  open  Baedeker  in  his  hand,  and  the 
lady  carried  a  phrase-book.  They  talked  French 
that  nobody  could  understand,  and  German  that 
they  could  not  translate  themselves.  The  man 
poked  at  officials  with  his  alpenstock  to  attract 
their  attention,  and  the  lady,  her  eye  catching 
sight  of  an  advertisement  of  somebody's  cocoa, 
said,  "  Shocking  !  "  and  turned  the  other  way. 

Really,  there  was  some  excuse  for  her.  One 
notices  even  in  England,  the  home  of  the  propri- 
eties, that  the  lady  who  drinks  cocoa  appears,  ac- 
cording to  the  poster,  to  require  very  little  else  in 
this  world ;  a  yard  or  so  of  art  muslin  at  the 
most.  On  the  Continent  she  dispenses,  so  far  as 
one  can  judge,  with  every  other  necessity  of  life. 
Not  only  is  cocoa  food  and  drink  to  her,  but  it 
should  be  clothes  also,  according  to  the  idea  of  the 
cocoa  manufacturer.  But  this  by  the  way. 

'54 


Regeneration   of  George 

Of  course  they  immediately  became  the  centre 
of  attraction.  By  being  able  to  render  them  some 
slight  assistance  I  gained  the  advantage  of  five 
minutes'  conversation  with  them  ;  they  were  very 
affable.  The  gentleman  told  me  his  name  was 
Jones,  and  that  he  came  from  Manchester,  but  he 
did  not  seem  to  know  what  part  of  Manchester, 
or  where  Manchester  was.  I  asked  him  where 
he  was  going,  but  he  evidently  did  not  know. 
He  said  it  depended.  I  asked  him  if  he  did  not 
find  an  alpenstock  a  clumsy  thing  to  walk  about 
with  through  a  crowded  town ;  he  admitted  that 
occasionally  it  did  get  in  the  way.  I  asked  him 
if  he  did  not  find  a  veil  interfere  with  his  view 
of  things  ;  he  explained  that  you  only  wore  it 
when  the  flies  became  troublesome.  I  inquired 
of  the  lady  if  she  did  not  find  the  wind  blow 
cold  ;  she  said  she  had  noticed  it,  especially  at  the 
corners.  I  did  not  ask  these  questions  one  after 
another  as  I  have  here  put  them  down  ;  I  mixed 
them  up  with  general  conversation,  and  we  parted 
on  good  terms. 

I  have  pondered  upon  the  apparition,  and  have 
come  to  a  definite  opinion.  A  man  I  met  later 
at  Frankfort,  and  to  whom  I  described  the  pair, 
said  he  had  seen  them  himself  in  Paris  three  weeks 
after  the  termination  of  the  Fashoda  incident ;  and 
a  traveller  for  some  English  steel  works  whom  we 
met  in  Strassburg  remembered  having  seen  them 
in  Berlin  during  the  excitement  caused  by  the 

'55 


r  e  e   M  en   on    W^h  eels 

Transvaal  question.  My  conclusion  is  that  they 
were  actors  out  of  work,  hired  to  do  this  thing  in 
the  interests  of  international  peace.  The  French 
Foreign  Office,  wishful  to  allay  the  anger  of  the 
Parisian  mob  clamouring  for  war  with  England, 
secured  this  admirable  couple  and  sent  them 
around  the  town.  You  cannot  be  amused  at  a 
thing  and  at  the  same  time  want  to  kill  it.  The 
French  nation  saw  the  English  citizen  and  citizen- 
ess  —  no  caricature,  but  the  living  reality  —  and 
their  indignation  exploded  in  laughter.  The  suc- 
cess of  the  stratagem  prompted  them  later  to  offer 
their  services  to  the  German  Government,  with 
the  beneficial  results  that  we  all  know. 

Our  own  Government  might  learn  the  lesson. 
It  might  be  as  well  to  keep  near  Downing  Street 
a  few  small,  fat  Frenchmen,  to  be  sent  around  the 
country  when  occasion  called  for  it,  shrugging 
their  shoulders  and  eating  frog  sandwiches;  or  a 
file  of  untidy,  lank-haired  Germans  might  be  re- 
tained to  walk  about,  smoking  long  pipes,  saying, 
"  Soh  !  "  The  public  would  laugh  and  exclaim  : 
"  War  with  such  ?  It  would  be  too  absurd." 
Failing  the  Government,  I  recommend  the  scheme 
to  the  Peace  Society. 

Our  visit  to  Prague  we  were  compelled  to 
lengthen  somewhat.  Prague  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  towns  in  Europe.  Its  stones  are  sat- 
urated with  history  and  romance ;  its  every  sub- 
urb must  have  been  a  battle-field.  It  is  the  town 

156 


Regeneration   of  George 

that  conceived  the  Reformation  and  hatched  the 
Thirty-Years'  War.  But  half  Prague's  troubles, 
one  imagines,  might  have  been  saved  to  it  had  it 
possessed  windows  less  large  and  temptingly  con- 
venient. The  first  of  these  mighty  catastrophes 
it  set  rolling  by  throwing  the  Seven  Catholic 
Councillors  from  the  windows  of  its  Rathhaus  on 
to  the  pikes  of  the  Hussites  below.  Later  it  gave 
the  signal  for  the  second  by  again  throwing  the 
Imperial  Councillors  from  the  windows  of  the 
old  burg  in  the  Hradschin  —  Prague's  second 
"  Fensfer-sturz."  Since,  other  fateful  questions 
have  been  decided  in  Prague.  One  assumes, 
from  their  having  been  concluded  without  vio- 
lence, that  such  must  have  been  discussed  in  cel- 
lars. The  window  as  an  argument,  one  feels, 
would  always  have  proved  too  strong  a  tempta- 
tion to  any  true-born  Praguer. 

In  the  Teynkirche  stands  the  worm-eaten  pul- 
pit from  which  preached  John  Huss.  One  may 
hear  from  the  self-same  desk  to-day  the  voice  of 
a  Papist  priest,  while  in  far-off  Constance  a  rude 
block  of  stone,  half  ivy  hidden,  marks  the  spot 
where  Huss  and  Jerome  died  burning  at  the 
stake ;  history  is  fond  of  her  little  ironies.  In 
this  same  Teynkirche  lies  buried  Tycho  Brahe, 
the  astronomer,  who  made  the  common  mistake  of 
thinking  the  earth,  with  its  eleven  hundred  creeds 
and  one  humanity,  the  centre  of  the  universe  ;  but 
who  otherwise  observed  the  stars  clearly. 


T'h  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

Through  Prague's  dirty,  palace-bordered  alleys 
must  have  pressed  often  in  hot  haste  blind 
Ziska  and  open-minded  Wallenstein  —  they  have 
dubbed  him  "  The  Hero  "  in  Prague,  and  the 
town  is  honestly  proud  of  having  owned  him  for 
a  citizen  ;  in  his  gloomy  palace  in  the  Waldstein- 
Platz  they  show  as  a  sacred  spot  the  cabinet 
where  he  prayed,  and  seem  to  have  persuaded 
themselves  he  really  had  a  soul.  Its  steep,  wind- 
ing ways  must  have  been  choked  a  dozen  times, 
now  by  Sigismund's  flying  legions  followed  by 
fierce  killing  Tarborites,  and  now  by  pale  Prot- 
estants pursued  by  the  victorious  Catholics  of 
Maximilian.  Now  Saxons,  now  Bavarians,  and 
now  French  ;  now  the  saints  of  Gustavus  Adol- 
phus,  and  now  the  steel  fighting-machines  of 
Frederick  the  Great,  have  thundered  at  its  gates 
and  fought  upon  its  bridges. 

The  Jews  have  always  been  an  important 
feature  of  Prague.  Occasionally  they  have 
assisted  the  Christians  in  their  favourite  occupa- 
tion of  slaughtering  one  another,  and  the  great 
flag  suspended  from  the  vaulting  of  the  Altneu- 
schule  testifies  to  the  courage  with  which  they 
helped  Catholic  Ferdinand  to  resist  the  Protes- 
tant Swedes.  The  Prague  Ghetto  was  one  of  the 
first  to  be  established  in  Europe,  and  in  the  tiny 
synagogue,  still  standing,  the  Jew  of  Prague  has 
worshipped  for  eight  hundred  years,  his  women- 
folk devoutly  listening  without,  at  the  ear  holes 

158 


Regeneration   of  G  e  o  r  g  e 

provided  for  them  in  the  massive  walls.  The 
Jewish  cemetery  adjacent,  "  Bethchajim,  or  the 
House  of  Life/'  seems  as  though  it  were  bursting 
with  its  dead.  Within  its  narrow  acre  it  was  the 
law  of  centuries  that  here  or  nowhere  must  the 
bones  of  Israel  rest.  So  the  worn  and  broken 
tombstones  lie  piled  in  close  confusion,  as  though 
tossed  and  tumbled  by  the  stifled  host  beneath. 

The  Ghetto  walls  have  long  been  levelled,  but 
the  living  Jews  of  Prague  still  cling  to  their  fetid 
lanes,  though  these  are  being  rapidly  replaced  by 
fine  new  streets  that  promise  to  eventually  trans- 
form this  quarter  into  the  handsomest  part  of  the 
town. 

At  Dresden  they  advised  us  not  to  talk  Ger- 
man in  Prague.  For  years  racial  animosity  be- 
tween the  German  minority  and  the  Czech 
majority  has  raged  throughout  Bohemia,  and  to 
be  mistaken  for  a  German  in  certain  streets  of 
Prague  is  inconvenient  to  a  man  whose  staying 
powers  in  a  race  are  not  what  once  they  were. 
However,  we  did  talk  German  in  Prague ;  it 
was  a  case  of  talking  German  or  nothing.  The 
Czech  dialect  is  said  to  be  of  great  antiquity  and 
of  highly  scientific  cultivation.  Its  alphabet  con- 
tains forty-two  letters,  suggestive,  to  the  stranger, 
of  Chinese.  It  is  not  a  language  to  be  picked  up 
in  a  hurry.  We  decided  that  on  the  whole  there 
would  be  less  risk  to  our  constitution  in  keeping 
to  German,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  harm 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

came  to  us.  The  explanation  I  can  only  sur- 
mise. The  Praguer  is  an  exceedingly  acute  per- 
son ;  some  subtle  falsity  of  accent,  some  slight 
grammatical  inaccuracy,  may  have  crept  into  our 
German,  revealing  to  him  the  fact  that,  in  spite 
of  all  appearances  to  the  contrary,  we  were  no 
true-born  Deutscher.  I  do  not  assert  this ;  I 
put  it  forward  as  a  possibility. 

To  avoid  unnecessary  danger,  however,  we  did 
our  sight-seeing  with  the  aid  of  a  guide.  No 
guide  I  have  ever  come  across  is  perfect.  This 
one  had  two  distinct  failings.  His  English  was 
decidedly  weak.  Indeed,  it  was  not  English  at 
all.  I  do  not  know  what  you  would  call  it.  It 
was  not  altogether  his  fault;  he  had  learned 
English  from  a  Scotch  lady.  I  understand 
Scotch  fairly  well ;  to  keep  abreast  of  modern 
English  literature  this  is  necessary  :  but  to  under- 
stand broad  Scotch,  talked  with  a  Slavonic  accent, 
occasionally  relieved  by  German  modifications, 
taxes  the  intejligence.  For  the  first  hour  it  was 
difficult  to  rid  one's  self  of  the  conviction  that  the 
man  was  choking.  Every  moment  we  expected 
him  to  die  on  our  hands.  In  the  course  of  the 
morning  we  grew  accustomed  to  him,  and  rid 
ourselves  of  the  instinct  to  throw  him  on  his 
back  every  time  he  opened  his  mouth,  and  tear 
his  clothes  from  him.  Later  we  came  to  under- 
stand a  part  of  what  he  said,  and  this  led  to  the 
discovery  of  his  second  failing. 

1 60 


Regeneration   of  George 

It  would  seem  he  had  lately  invented  a  hair 
restorer  which  he  had  persuaded  a  local  chemist 
to  take  up  and  advertise.  Half  his  time  he  had 


Our  Guide 

been  pointing  out  to  us  not  the  beauties  of 
Prague,  but  the  benefits  likely  to  accrue  to  the 
human  race  from  the  use  of  this  concoction,  and 
the  conventional  agreement  with  which,  under 
the  impression  he  was  waxing  eloquent  concern- 
ing views  and  architecture,  we  had  met  his 
ii  161 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

enthusiasm,  he  had  attributed  to  sympathetic 
interest  in  this  wretched  hair-wash  of  his. 

The  result  was  that  now  there  was  no  keeping 
him  away  from  the  subject.  Ruined  palaces  and 
crumbling  churches  he  dismissed  with  curt  refer- 
ence as  mere  frivolities,  encouraging  a  morbid 
taste  for  the  decadent.  His  duty,  as  he  saw  it, 
was  not  to  lead  us  to  dwell  upon  the  ravages  of 
time,  but  rather  to  direct  our  attention  to  the 
means  of  repairing  them.  What  had  we  to  do 
with  broken-headed  heroes  or  bald-headed  saints  ? 
Our  interest  should  be  surely  in  the  living  world  ; 
in  the  maidens  with  their  flowing  tresses  —  or  the 
flowing  tresses  they  might  have  by  judicious  use 
of  "  Kophkeo  "  —  in  the  young  men  with  their 
fierce  mustaches  —  as  pictured  on  the  label. 

Unconsciously,  in  his  own  mind  he  had 
divided  the  world  into  two  sections  :  The  Past 
("before  use"),  a  sickly,  disagreeable-looking, 
uninteresting  world.  The  Future  ("  after  use  "), 
a  fat,  jolly,  God-bless-everybody  sort  of  world  ; 
and  this  unfitted  him  as  a  guide  to  scenes  of 
Mediaeval  history. 

He  sent  us  each  a  bottle  of  the  stuff  to  our 
hotel.  It  appeared  that  in  the  early  part  of  our 
converse  with  him  we  had,  unwittingly,  clamoured 
for  it.  Personally,  I  can  neither  praise  it  nor 
condemn  it.  A  long  series  of  disappointments 
has  disheartened  me  ;  added  to  which  a  perma- 
nent atmosphere  of  paraffine,  however  faint,  is 

162 


Regeneration   of  George 

apt  to  cause  remark,   especially   in  the  case  of  a 
married  man.     Now  I  never  try  even  the  sample. 

I  gave  my  bottle  to  George.  He  asked  for  it 
to  send  to  a  man  he  knew  in  Leeds.  I  learned 
later  that  Harris  had  given  him  his  bottle  also,  to 
send  to  the  same  man. 

A  suggestion  of  onions  has  clung  to  this  tour 
since  we  left  Prague.  George  has  noticed  it  him- 
self. He  has  attributed  it  to  the  prevalence  of 
garlic  in  European  cooking. 

It  was  in  Prague  that  Harris  and  I  did  a  kind 
and  friendly  thing  to  George.  We  had  noticed 
for  some  time  past  that  George  was  getting  too 
fond  of  Pilsener  beer.  This  German  beer  is  an 
insidious  drink,  especially  in  hot  weather ;  but  it 
does  not  do  to  imbibe  too  freely  of  it.  It  does 
not  get  into  your  head  ;  but  after  a  time  it  spoils 
your  waist.  I  always  say  to  myself  on  entering 
Germany  : 

"  Now,  I  shall  drink  no  German  beer.  The 
white  wine  of  the  country  with  a  little  soda 
water ;  perhaps  occasionally  a  glass  of  Ems  or 
Potash.  But  beer,  never  —  or  at  all  events, 
hardly  ever." 

It  is  a  good  and  useful  resolution,  which  I 
recommend  to  all  travellers.  I  only  wish  I  could 
keep  to  it  myself.  George,  although  I  urged 
him,  refused  to  bind  himself  by  any  such  hard 
and  fast  limit.  He  said  that,  in  moderation, 
German  beer  was  good. 

163 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

"  One  glass  in  the  morning/*  said  George, 
"  one  in  the  evening,  or  even  two.  That  can  do 
no  harm  to  any  one." 

Maybe  he  was  right ;  it  was  his  half-dozen 
glasses  that  troubled  Harris  and  myself. 

"  We  ought  to  do  something  to  stop  it,"  said 
Harris  ;  "  it  is  becoming  serious." 

"  It 's  hereditary,  so  he  has  explained  to  me," 
I  answered ;  "  it  seems  his  family  have  always 
been  thirsty." 

"There  is  Apollinaris  water,"  replied  Harris, 
"  which,  I  believe,  with  a  little  lemon  squeezed 
into  it,  is  practically  harmless.  What  I  am 
thinking  about  is  his  figure.  He  will  lose  all  his 
natural  elegance." 

We  talked  the  matter  over  and,  Providence 
aiding  us,  we  fixed  upon  a  plan.  For  the  orna- 
mentation of  the  town  a  new  statue  had  just  been 
cast.  I  forget  of  whom  it  was  a  statue.  I  only 
remember  that  in  the  essentials  it  was  the  usual 
sort  of  street  statue,  representing  the  usual  sort 
of  gentleman,  with  the  usual  /tiff  neck,  riding  the 
usual  sort  of  horse  —  the  horse  that  always  walks 
on  its  hind  legs,  keeping  its  front  paws  for  beat- 
ing time  ;  but  in  detail  it  possessed  individuality. 
Instead  of  the  usual  sword  or  baton,  the  man 
was  holding,  stretched  out  in  his  hand,  his  own 
plumed  hat ;  and  the  horse,  instead  of  the  usual 
waterfall  for  a  tail,  possessed  a  somewhat  attenu- 
ated appendage  that  somehow  appeared  out  of 

164 


Regeneration   of  G  e  o  r  g  e 

keeping  with  his  ostentatious  behaviour.  One  felt 
that  a  horse  with  a  tail  like  that  would  not  have 
pranced  so  much. 

It  stood  in  a  small  square  not  far  from  the 
farther  end  of  the  Karlsbriicke,  but  it  stood  there 
only  temporarily.  Before  deciding  where  to  fix  it, 
the  town  authorities  had  resolved,  very  sensibly, 
to  judge  by  practical  test  where  it  would  look 
best.  Accordingly  they  had  had  made  three  rough 
copies  of  the  statue — mere  wooden  profiles, 
things  that  would  not  bear  looking  at  closely,  but 
which,  viewed  from  a  little  distance,  produced  all 
the  effect  that  was  necessary.  One  of  these  they 
had  set  up  at  the  approach  to  the  Franz-Josefs- 
briicke,  a  second  stood  in  the  open  space  behind 
the  theatre,  and  the  third  in  the  centre  of  the 
Wenzelsplatz. 

"  If  George  is  not  in  the  secret  of  this  thing," 
said  Harris  —  we  were  walking  by  ourselves  for 
an  hour,  he  having  remained  behind  in  the  hotel 
to  write  a  letter  to  his  aunt — "  if  he  has  not 
observed  these  statues,  then  by  their  aid  we  will 
make  a  better  and  a  thinner  man  of  him,  and  that 
this  very  evening." 

So  during  dinner  we  sounded  him  judiciously, 
and,  finding  him  ignorant  of  the  matter,  we  took 
him  out  and  led  him  by  side  streets  to  the  place 
where  stood  the  real  statue.  George  was  for 
looking  at  it  and  passing  on,  as  is  his  way  with 
statues,  but  we  insisted  on  his  pulling  up  and 


Th  r  e  e    Me  n   o  n    Jf^b  eels 

viewing  the  thing  conscientiously.  We  walked 
him  around  that  statue  four  times  and  showed  it 
to  him  from  every  possible  point  of  view.  I 
think,  on  the  whole,  we  rather  bored  him  with 
the  thing,  but  our  object  was  to  impress  it  upon 
him.  We  told  him  the  history  of  the  man  that 
rode  upon  the  horse,  the  name  of  the  artist  who 
had  made  the  statue,  how  much  it  weighed,  how 
much  it  measured.  We  worked  that  statue  into 
his  system.  By  the  time  we  had  done  with  him 
he  knew  more  about  that  statue,  for  the  time 
being,  than  he  knew  about  anything  else.  We 
soaked  him  in  that  statue,  and  only  let  him  go 
at  last  on  the  condition  that  he  would  come  again 
with  us  in  the  morning,  when  we  could  all  see  it 
better ;  and  for  such  purpose  ,we  saw  to  it  that  he 
made  a  note  in  his  pocketbook  of  the  place  where 
the  statue  stood. 

Then  we  accompanied  him  to  his  favourite  beer 
hall  and  sat  beside  him,  telling  him  anecdotes  of 
men  who,  accustomed  to  German  beer  and  drink- 
ing too  much  of  it,  had  gone  mad  and  developed 
homicidal  mania;  of  men  who  had  died  young 
through  drinking  German  beer  ;  of  lovers  that 
German  beer  had  been  the  means  of  parting 
forever  from  beautiful  girls. 

At  ten  o'clock  we  started  to  walk  back  to 
the  hotel.  It  was  a  stormy-looking  night,  with 
heavy  clouds  drifting  over  a  light  moon.  Harris 
said: 

166 


u  We  walked  him  round  that  statue  four  times  " 


Regeneration   of  G  e  o  r  g  e 

"  We  won't  go  back  the  same  way  we  came ; 
we'll  walk  back  by  the  river.  It  is  lovely  in 
the  moonlight." 

Harris  told  a  sad  history  as  we  walked,  about 
a  man  he  once  knew  who  is  now  in  a  home  for 
harmless  imbeciles.  He  said  he  recalled  the 
story  because  it  was  on  just  such  another  night 
as  this  that  he  was  walking  with  that  man  the 
very  last  time  he  ever  saw  the  poor  fellow.  They 
were  strolling  down  the  Thames  Embankment, 
Harris  said,  and  the  man  frightened  him  then  by 
persisting  that  he  saw  the  statue  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  at  the  corner  of  Westminster  Bridge, 
when  as  everybody  knows  it  stands  in  Piccadilly. 

It  was  at  this  exact  instant  that  we  came  in 
sight  of  the  first  of  these  wooden  copies.  It 
occupied  the  centre  of  a  small  railed-in  square,  a 
little  above  us  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  way. 
George  suddenly  stood  still  and  leaned  against 
the  wall  of  the  quay. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  I  said  ;  "  feeling 
giddy  ? " 

He  said:  "I  do,  a  little.  Let's  rest  here  a 
moment." 

He  stood  there  with  his  eyes  glued  to  the 
thing.  He  said,  speaking  huskily  : 

"  Talking  of  statues,  what  always  strikes  me 
is  how  very  much  one  statue  is  like  another 
statue." 

Harris  said  ;  "  I  cannot  agree  with  you  there  ; 
167 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    W h  eels 

pictures,  if  you  like.  Some  pictures  are  very  like 
other  pictures,  but  with  a  statue  there  is  always 
something  distinctive.  Take  that  statue  we  saw 
early  in  the  evening,"  continued  Harris,  "  before 
we  went  into  that  concert  hall.  It  represented  a 
man  sitting  on  a  horse.  In  Prague  you  will  see 
other  statues  of  men  on  horses,  but  nothing  at 
all  like  that  one." 

"  Yes,  they  are,"  said  George ;  "  they  are  all 
alike.  It 's  always  the  same  horse,  and  it 's 
always  the  same  man.  They  are  all  exactly  alike. 
It's  idiotic  nonsense  to  say  they  are  not."  He 
appeared  to  be  angry  with  Harris. 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  "  I  asked. 

"What  makes  me  think  so?  "  retorted  George, 
now  turning  upon  me.  "  Why,  look  at  that 
thing  over  there  !  " 

I  said:  "  What  thing  ? " 

"  Why,  that  thing,"  said  George  ;  "  look  at  it. 
There  is  the  same  horse  with  half  a  tail,  standing 
on  its  hind  legs  ;  the  same  man  without  his  hat ; 
the  same " 

Harris  said  :  "  You  are  talking  now  about  the 
statue  we  saw  in  the  Ringplatz." 

"  No,  I  'm  not,"  replied  George  ;  "  I'm  talk- 
ing about  that  statue  over  there." 

"  What  statue  ?  "  said  Harris. 

George  looked  at  Harris,  but  Harris  is«a  man 
who  might  with  care  have  been  a  fair  amateur 
actor.  His  face  merely  expressed  friendly  sorrow, 

1 68 


Regeneration  of  G  e  o  r  g  e 

mingled  with  alarm.  Next  George  turned  his 
gaze  on  me.  I  endeavoured,  so  far  as  lay  within 
me,  to  copy  Harris'  expression,  adding  to  it  on 
my  own  account  a  touch  of  reproof. 

"  Will  you  have  a  cab  ?  "  I  said  as  kindly  as  I 
could  to  George ;  "  I  '11  run  and  get  one." 

"  What  the  devil  do  I  want  with  a  cab  ? "  he 
answered  ungraciously.  "  Can't  you  fellows  under- 
stand a  joke  ?  It's  like  being  out  with  a  couple 
of  confounded  old  women,"  saying  which  he 
started  off  across  the  bridge,  leaving  us  to  follow. 

"  I  am  so  glad  that  was  only  a  joke  of  yours," 
said  Harris,  on  our  overtaking  him.  "  I  knew  a 
case  of  softening  of  the  brain  that  began : 

"  Oh,  you  're  a  silly  ass  !  "  said  George,  cutting 
him  short;  "you  know  everything."  He  was 
really  most  unpleasant  in  his  manner. 

We  took  him  around  by  the  river  side  of  the 
theatre.  We  told  him  it  was  the  shortest  way, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was.  In  the  open 
space  behind  the  theatre  stood  the  second  of  these 
wooden  apparitions.  George  looked  at  it  and 
again  stood  still. 

"What's  the  matter?"  said  Harris  kindly. 
"  You  are  not  ill,  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  this  is  the  shortest  way,"  said 
George. 

"  I  assure  you  it  is,"  persisted  Harris. 

"Well,  I  'm  going  the  other,"  said  George,  and 
he  turned  and  went,  we  as  before  following  him. 

169 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    IFh  eels 

"  Three/'  replied  Harris. 

"  Only  three  ? "  said  George.    "  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Positive,"  replied  Harris.     "  Why  ? " 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  answered  George. 

But  I  don't  think  he  quite  believed  Harris. 

From  Prague  we  travelled  to  Nuremberg 
through  Carlsbad.  Good  Germans,  when  they 
die,  go,  they  say,  to  Carlsbad,  as  good  Americans 
to  Paris.  This  I  doubt,  seeing  that  it  is  a  small 
place  with  no  convenience  for  a  crowd.  In  Carls- 
bad you  rise  at  five  ;  the  fashionable  hour  for  prom- 
enade, when  the  band  plays  under  the  Colonnade, 
and  the  Sprudel  is  filled  with  a  packed  throng  over 
a  mile  long,  is  from  six  to  eight  in  the  morning. 
Here  you  may  hear  more  languages  spoken  than 
the  Tower  of  Babel  could  have  echoed.  Polish 
Jews  and  Russian  Princes,  Chinese  Mandarins  and 
Turkish  Pashas,  Norwegians  looking  as  if  they 
had  stepped  out  of  Ibsen's  plays,  women  from 
the  Boulevards,  Spanish  grandees  and  English 
Countesses,  mountaineers  from  Montenegro  and 
millionaires  from  Chicago,  you  will  find  every 
dozen  yards.  Every  luxury  in  the  world  Carlsbad 
provides  for  its  visitors,  with  the  one  exception 
of  pepper.  That  you  cannot  get  within  five  miles 
of  the  town  for  money ;  what  you  can  get  there 
for  love  is  not  worth  taking  away.  Pepper,  to  the 
liver  brigade  that  forms  four-fifths  of  Carlsbad's 
customers,  is  poison,  and  prevention  being  better 
than  cure,  it  is  carefully  kept  out  of  the  neighbour- 

172 


Regeneration   of  George 

hood.  "  Pepper  parties  "  are  formed  in  Carlsbad 
to  journey  to  some  place  without  the  boundary, 
and  there  indulge  in  pepper  orgies. 

Nuremberg,  if  one  expects  a  town  of  Mediaeval 
appearance,  disappoints.  Quaint  corners,  pictur- 
esque glimpses  there  are  in  plenty  ;  but  every- 
where they  are  surrounded  and  intruded  upon  by 
the  modern,  and  even  what  is  ancient  is  not  nearly 
so  ancient  as  one  thought  it  was.  After  all,  a 
town,  like  a  woman,  is  only  as  old  as  it  looks  ;  and 
Nuremberg  is  still  a  comfortable-looking  dame, 
its  age  somewhat  difficult  to  conceive  under  its 
fresh  paint  and  stucco,  in  the  blaze  of  the  gas  and 
the  electric  light.  Still,  looking  closely,  you  may 
see  its  wrinkled  walls  and  gray  towers. 


'73 


IX.  — IN   THE   TOILS   OF   THE 
GERMAN    LAW 

ALL  three  of  us,  by  some  means  or 
another,  managed,  between  Nurem- 
berg and   the  Black  Forest,  to  get 
into    trouble.       Harris    led  off    at 
Stuttgart    by    insulting    an    official 
Stuttgart  is  a  charming  town,  clean  and  bright ;  a 
smaller  Dresden.     It  has  the  additional  attraction 
of'containing  little  that  one  need  go  out  of  one's 
way  to  see  ;    a  medium-sized   picture   gallery,  a 
small  museum  of  antiquities,  and  half  a  palace 
and  you  are  through  with  the  entire  thing  anc 
can  enjoy  yourself.     Harris  did  not  know  it  was 
an  official  he  was  insulting.     He  took  it  for  a 
fireman  (it  looked  like  a  fireman),  and  he  callec 
it  a  "  dummer  Esel." 

In  Germany  you  are  not  permitted  to  call  an 
official  a  "  silly  ass,"  but  undoubtedly  this  particu- 
lar man  was  one.     What  had  happened  was  this 
Harris  in  the  Stadtgarten,  anxious  to  get  out,  anc 
seeing  a  gate  open  before  him,  had  stepped  ovei 
a  wire  into  the  street.     Harris  maintains  he  neve 
saw  it,  but  undoubtedly  there  was  hanging  to  the 
wire  a  notice,  "  Durchgang  Verboten  !  "       The 
man,  who  was   standing  just   outside   the   gate, 
stopped    Harris    and   pointed    out   to    him    this 


In    Toils  of  German   La 


w 


notice.  Harris  thanked  him  and  passed  on. 
The  man  came  after  him  and  explained  that 
treatment  of  the  matter  in  such  off-hand  way 


u  The  man  stopped  Harris  " 

could  not  be  allowed ;  what  was  necessary  to  put 
the  business  right  was  that  Harris  should  step 
back  over  the  wire  into  the  garden.  Harris 
pointed  out  to  the  man  that  the  notice  said 
"going  through  forbidden/'  and  that,  therefore, 
by  reentering  the  garden  that  way  he  would  be 

'75 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

infringing  the  law  a  second  time.  The  man 
saw  this  for  himself,  and  suggested  that  to  get 
over  the  difficulty  Harris  should  go  back  into 
the  garden  by  the  proper  entrance,  which  was 
round  the  corner,  and  afterward  immediately 
come  out  again  by  the  same  gate.  Then  it  was 
that  Harris  called  the  man  a  silly  ass.  That 
delayed  us  a  day  and  cost  Harris  forty  marks. 

I  followed  suit  at  Carlsruhe  by  stealing  a  bi- 
cycle. I  did  not  mean  to  steal  the  bicycle  ;  I 
was  merely  trying  to  be  useful.  The  train  was 
on  the  point  of  starting  when  I  noticed,  as  I 
thought,  Harris'  bicycle  still  in  the  goods  van. 
No  one  was  about  to  help  me.  I  jumped  into  the 
van  and  hauled  it  out  only  just  in  time.  Wheel- 
ing it  down  the  platform  in  triumph,  I  came 
across  Harris'  bicycle  standing  against  a  wall 
behind  some  milk  cans.  The  bicycle  I  had 
secured  was  not  Harris',  but  some  other  man's. 

It  was  an  awkward  situation.  In  England  I 
should  have  gone  to  the  station-master  and  ex- 
plained my  mistake.  But  in  Germany  they  are 
not  content  with  your  explaining  a  little  matter 
of  this  sort  to  one  man ;  they  take  you  around 
and  get  you  to  explain  it  to  about  half  a  dozen, 
and  if  any  one  of  the  half-dozen  happens  not  to 
be  handy,  or  not  to  have  time  just  then  to  listen 
to  you,  they  have  a  habit  of  leaving  you  over  for 
the  night  to  finish  your  explanation  the  next 
morning.  I  thought  I  would  just  put  the  thing 

176 


"  '  Where  did  you  get  it  from  ?  ' 


In    "Toils  of  German   L 


a  w 


out  of  sight,  and  then,  without  making  any  fuss 
or  show,  take  a  short  walk.  I  found  a  woodshed 
which  seemed  just  the  very  place,  and  was  wheel- 
ing the  bicycle  into  it  when,  unfortunately,  a  red- 
hatted  railway  official,  with  the  airs  of  a  retired 
Field  Marshal,  caught  sight  of  me  and  came  up. 
He  said :  — 

"  What  are  you  doing  with  that  bicycle  ?  " 

I  said :  "  I  am  going  to  put  it  in  this  wood- 
shed out  of  the  way."  I  tried  to  convey  by  my 
tone  that  I  was  performing  a  kind  and  thought- 
ful action  for  which  the  railway  officials  ought  to 
thank  me  ;  but  he  was  unresponsive. 

"  Is  it  your  bicycle  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Well,  not  exactly,"  I  replied. 

"  Whose  is  it  ? "  he  asked  quite  sharply. 

"  I  can't  tell  you,"  I  answered.  "  I  don't 
know  whose  bicycle  it  is." 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  from  ?  "  was  his  next 
question.  There  was  a  suspiciousness  about  his 
tone  that  was  almost  insulting. 

"  I  got  it,"  I  answered  with  as  much  calm 
dignity  as  at  the  moment  I  could  assume,  "  out 
of  the  train.  The  fact  is,"  I  continued  frankly, 
"  I  have  made  a  mistake." 

He  did  not  allow  me  time  to  finish.  He 
merely  said  he  thought  so,  too,  and  blew  a 
whistle. 

Recollection  of  the  subsequent  proceedings  is 

not,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  amusing.     By  a. 
12  I77 


Three  Men   on    Wheels 

miracle  of  good  luck  —  they  say  Providence 
watches  over  certain  of  us  —  the  incident  hap- 
pened in  Carlsruhe,  where  I  possess  a  German 
friend,  an  official  of  some  importance.  Upon 
what  would  have  been  my  fate  had  the  station  not 
been  Carlsruhe,  or  had  my  friend  been  from 
home,  I  do  not  care  to  dwell ;  as  it  was,  I  got 
off,  as  the  saying  is,  by  the  skin  of  my  teeth.  I 
should  like  to  add  that  I  left  Carlsruhe  without  a 
stain  upon  my  character,  but  that  would  not 
be  the  truth.  My  going  scot  free  is  regarded  in 
police  circles  there  to  this  day  as  a  grave  mis- 
carriage of  justice. 

But  all  lesser  sin  sinks  into  insignificance  be- 
side the  lawlessness  of  George.  The  bicycle 
incident  had  thrown  us  all  into  confusion, 
with  the  result  that  we  lost  George  altogether. 
It  transpired  subsequently  that  he  was  waiting 
for  us  outside  the  police  court ;  but  this  at  the 
time  we  did  not  know.  We  thought  maybe  he 
had  gone  on  to  Baden  by  himself  and,  anxious 
to  get  away  from  Carlsruhe,  and  not  perhaps 
thinking  out  things  too  clearly,  we  jumped  into 
the  next  train  that  came  up  and  proceeded 
thither.  When  George,  tired  of  waiting,  re- 
turned to  the  station  he  found  us  gone,  and  he 
found  his  luggage  gone.  Harris  had  his  ticket, 
I  was  acting  as  banker  to  the  party,  so  that  he 
had  in  his  pocket  only  some  small  change.  Ex- 
cusing himself  upon  these  grounds,  he  thereupon 

178 


In    Toils  of  German   Law 

commenced  deliberately  a  career  of  crime  that, 
reading  it  later  as  set  forth  baldly  in  the  official 
summons,  made  the  hair  of  Harris  and  myself 
almost  to  stand  on  end. 

German  travelling,  it  may  be  explained,  is 
somewhat  complicated.  You  buy  a  ticket  at  the 
station  you  start  from  for  the  place  you  want  to 
go  to.  You  might  think  this  would  enable  you 
to  get  there,  but  it  does  not.  When  your  train 
comes  up  you  attempt  to  swarm  into  it,  but  the 
guard  magnificently  waves  you  away.  Where 
are  your  credentials?  You  show  him  your  ticket. 
He  explains  to  you  that  by  itself  that  is  of  no 
service  whatever;  you  have  only  taken  the  first 
step  toward  travelling ;  you  must  go  back  to  the 
booking  office  and  get  in  addition  what  is  called 
a  "schnellzug"  ticket.  With  this  you  return, 
thinking  your  troubles  over.  You  are  allowed  to 
get  in ;  so  far  so  good.  But  you  must  not  sit 
down  anywhere,  and  you  must  not  stand  still,  and 
you  must  not  wander  about.  You  must  take 
another  ticket,  this  time  what  is  called  a  "platz" 
ticket,  which  entitles  you  to  a  place  for  a  certain 
distance. 

What  a  man  could  do  who  persisted  in  taking 
nothing  but  the  one  ticket  I  have  often  wondered. 
Would  he  be  entitled  to  run  behind  the  train  on 
the  six-foot  way?  Or  could  he  stick  a  label  on 
himself  and  get  into  the  goods  van  ?  Again, 
what  would  be  done  with  the  man  who,  having 

179 


Three  Men   on 


taken  his  schnellzug  ticket,  obstinately  refused  or 
had  not  the  money  to  take  a  platz  ticket  ;  would 
they  let  him  lie  in  the  umbrella  rack,  or  allow 
him  to  hang  himself  out  of  window? 

To  return  to  George,  he  had  just  sufficient 
money  to  take  a  third-class,  slow-train  ticket  to 
Baden,  and  that  was  all.  To  avoid  the  inquisi- 
tiveness  of  the  guard,  he  waited  till  the  train  was 
moving  and  then  jumped  in. 

That  was  his  first  sin  :  (a)  Entering  a  train  in 
motion  (b)  after  being  warned  not  to  do  so  by 
an  official. 

Second  sin  :  (a)  Travelling  in  train  of  superior 
class  to  that  for  which  ticket  was  held,  (b)  Re- 
fusing to  pay  difference  when  demanded  by  an 
official.  (George  says  he  did  not  "  refuse  "  ;  he 
simply  told  the  man  he  had  not  got  it.) 

Third  sin  :  (a)  Travelling  in  carriage  of  supe- 
rior class  to  that  for  which  ticket  was  held,  (b) 
Refusing  to  pay  difference  when  demanded  by 
an  official.  (Again  George  disputes  the  accu- 
racy of  the  report.  He  turned  his  pockets  out, 
and  offered  the  man  all  he  had,  which  was  about 
eightpence  in  German  money.  He  offered  to 
go  into  a  third  class,  but  there  was  no  third  class. 
He  offered  to  go  into  the  goods  van,  but  they 
would  not  hear  of  it.) 

Fourth  sin  :  (a)  Occupying  seat  and  not  pay- 
ing for  same.  (b)  Loitering  about  corridor. 
(As  they  would  not  let  him  sit  down  without 

180 


In    Toils   of  German   Law 

paying,  and  as  he  could  not  pay,  it  was  difficult 
to  see  what  else  he  could  do.) 

But  explanations  are  held  as  no  excuse  in 
Germany ;  and  his  journey  from  Carlsruhe  to 
Baden  was  one  of  the  most  expensive  perhaps 
on  record. 

Reflecting  upon  the  ease  and  frequency  with 
which  one  gets  into  trouble  here  in  Germany,  one 
is  led  to  the  conclusion  that  this  country  would 
come  as  a  boon  and  a  blessing  to  the  average 
young  Englishman.  To  the  medical  student, 
to  the  eater  of  dinners  at  the  Temple,  to  the 
subaltern  on  leave,  life  in  London  is  a  wearisome 
proceeding.  The  healthy  Briton  takes  his  pleas- 
ure lawlessly  or  it  is  no  pleasure  to  him. 
Nothing  that  he  may  do  affords  to.  him  any 
genuine  satisfaction.  To  be  in  trouble  of  some 
sort  is  his  only  idea  of  bliss.  Now,  England 
affords  him  small  opportunity  in  this  respect ; 
to  get  himself  into  a  scrape  requires  a  good  deal 
of  persistence  on  the  part  of  the  young  English- 
man. 

I  spoke  on  this  subject  one  day  with  our  senior 
churchwarden.  It  was  the  morning  of  the  tenth 
of  November,  and  we  were  both  of  us  glancing 
somewhat  anxiously  through  the  police  reports. 
The  usual  batch  of  young  men  had  been  sum- 
moned for  creating  the  usual  disturbance  the 
night  before  at  the  Criterion.  My  friend,  the 
churchwarden,  has  boys  of  his  own,  and  a 

181 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    W^b  eels 

nephew  of  mine,  upon  whom  I  am  keeping  a 
fatherly  eye,  is  by  a  fond  mother  supposed  to 
be  in  London  for  the  sole  purpose  of  studying 
engineering.  No  name  we  knew  happened,  by 
fortunate  chance,  to  be  in  the  list  of  those  de- 
tained in  custody,  and  relieved,  we  fell  to  moral- 
izing upon  the  folly  and  depravity  of  youth. 

"  It  is  very  remarkable,"  said  my  friend,  the 
churchwarden,  "  how  the  Criterion  retains  its 
position  in  this  respect.  It  was  just  so  when  I 
was  young  ;  the  evening  always  wound  up  with 
a  row  at  the  Criterion." 

"  So  meaningless/'  I  remarked. 

"  So  monotonous,"  he  replied.  "  You  have 
no  idea,"  he  continued,  a  dreamy  expression 
stealing  over  his  furrowed  face,  "  how  unuttera- 
bly tired  one  can  become  of  the  walk  from  Picca- 
dilly Circus  to  the  Vine  Street  Police  Court. 
Yet,  what  else  was  there  for.  us  to  do  ?  Simply 
nothing.  Sometimes  we  would  put  out  a  street 
lamp  and  a  man  would  come  around  and  light 
it  again.  If  one  insulted  a  policeman  he  simply 
took  no  notice.  He  did  not  even  know  he  was 
being  insulted ;  or  if  he  did  he  seemed  not  to 
care.  You  could  fight  a  Covent  Garden  porter 
if  you  fancied  yourself  at  that  sort  of  thing. 
Generally  speaking,  the  porter  got  the  best  of 
it ;  and  when  he  did  it  cost  you  five  shillings, 
and  when  he  did  not  the  price  was  half  a  sov- 
ereign. I  could  never  see  much  excitement  in 

182 


In    Toils  of  German   L 


a  w 


that  particular  sport.  I  tried  driving  a  hansom 
cab  once  ;  that  has  always  been  regarded  as  the 
acme  of  modern  Tom-and-Jerryism.  I  stole  it 
late  one  night  from  outside  a  public  house  in 
Dean  Street,  and  the  first  thing  that  happened 
to  me  was  that  I  was  hailed  in  Golden  Square 
by  an  old  lady  surrounded  by  three  children, 
two  of  them  crying  and  the  third  one  half  asleep. 
Before  I  could  get  away  she  had  shot  the  brats 
into  the  cab,  taken  my  number,  paid  me,  so  she 
said,  a  shilling  over  the  legal  fare,  and  directed 
me  to  an  address  beyond  what  she  called  North 
Kensington.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  place 
turned  out  to  be  the  other  side  of  Willesden. 
The  horse  was  tired,  and  the  journey  took  us 
well  over  two  hours.  It  was  the  slowest  lark  I 
ever  remember  being  concerned  in.  I  tried  once 
or  twice  to  persuade  the  children  to  let  me  take 
them  back  to  the  old  lady ;  but  every  time  I 
opened  the  trap  door  to  speak  to  them,  the 
youngest  one,  the  boy,  started  screaming,  and 
when  I  offered  other  drivers  to  transfer  the  job 
to  them,  most  of  them  replied  in  the  words  of 
a  song  popular  about  that  period  :  c  Oh,  George, 
Don't  You  Think  You  're  Going  Just  a  Bit  Too 
Far?'  One  man  offered  to  take  home  to  my 
wife  any  last  message  I  might  be  thinking  of, 
while  another  promised  to  organise  a  party  to 
come  and  dig  me  out  in  the  spring. 

"  When  I  had  mounted  the  dickey  I  had  im- 
183 


Three  Men   on    Wheels 

agined  myself  driving  a  peppery  old  Colonel  to 
some  lonesome  and  cabless  .region,  half  a  dozen 
miles  from  where  he  wanted  to  go,  and  there 
leaving  him  upon  the  curbstone  to  swear.  About 
that  there  might  have  been  good  sport,  or  there 
might  not,  according  to  the  circumstances,  and 
the  Colonel.  The  idea  of  a  trip  to  an  outlying 
suburb  in  charge  of  a  nursery  full  of  helpless  in- 
fants had  never  occurred  to  me. 

"  No,"  concluded  my  friend,  the  churchwarden, 
with  a  sigh,  "  London  affords  but  limited  op- 
portunity to  the  lover  of  the  illegal." 

Now,  in  Germany,  on  the  other  hand,  trouble 
is  to  be  had  for  the  asking.  There  are  many 
things  in  Germany  that  you  must  not  do  that  are 
quite  easy  to  do.  To  any  young  Englishman 
yearning  to  get  himself  into  a  scrape,  and  finding 
himself  hampered  in  his  own  country,  I  should 
advise  a  single  ticket  to  Germany  ;  a  return,  last- 
ing as  it  does  only  two  months,  might  prove  a 
waste. 

In  the  Police  Guide  of  the  Fatherland  he  will 
find  set  forth  a  list  of  the  things  the  doing  of 
which  will  bring  to  him  interest  and  excitement. 
In  Germany  you  must  not  hang  your  bed  out  of 
window.  He  might  begin  with  that.  By  waving 
his  bed  out  of  window  he  could  get  into  trouble 
before  he  had  had  his  breakfast.  At  home  he 
might  hang  himself  out  of  window  and  nobody 
would  mind  much,  provided  he  did  not  obstruct 

184 


In    Toils   of  German    L 


a  w 


anybody's  ancient  lights  or  break  away  and  injure 
any  passer  underneath. 

In  Germany  you  must  not  wear  fancy  dress  in 
the  streets.  A  Highlander  of  my  acquaintance, 
who  came  to  pass  the  winter  in  Dresden,  spent 
the  first  week  of  his  residence  there  in  arguing  this 
question  with  the  Saxon  Government.  They 
asked  him  what  he  was  doing  in  those  clothes. 
He  was  not  an  amiable  man.  He  answered  he 
was  wearing  them.  They  asked  him  why  he  was 
wearing  them.  He  replied  to  keep  himself  warm. 
They  told  him  frankly  that  they  did  not  believe 
him,  and  sent  him  back  to  his  lodgings  in  a  closed 
landau.  The  personal  testimony  of  the  English 
Minister  was  necessary  to  assure  the  authorities 
that  the  Highland  garb  was  the  customary  dress 
of  many  respectable  law-abiding  British  subjects. 
They  accepted  the  statement,  as  diplomatically 
bound,  but  retain  their  private  opinion  to  this 
day.  The  English  tourist  they  have  grown  ac- 
customed to.  But  a  Leicestershire  gentleman, 
invited  to  hunt  with  some  German  officers,  on 
appearing  outside  his  hotel  was  promptly  marched 
off,  horse  and  all,  to  explain  his  frivolity  at  the 
police  court. 

Another  thing  you  must  not  do  in  the  streets 
of  German  towns  is  to  feed  horses,  mules  or  don- 
keys, whether  your  own  or  those  belonging  to 
other  people.  If  a  passion  seizes  you  to  feed 
somebody  else's  horse,  you  must  make  an  ap- 

'85 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    U^h  eel 


pointment  with  the  animal,  and  the  n»eal  must 
take  place  in  some  properly  authorised  place. 
You  must  not  break  glass  or  china  in  the  street, 
nor,  in  fact,  in  any  public  resort  whatever,  and  if 
you  do  you  must  pick  up  all  the  pieces.  What 
you  are  to  do  with  the  pieces  when  you  have 
gathered  them  together  I  cannot  say.  The  only 
thing  I  know  for  certain  is  that  you  are  not  per- 
mitted to  throw  them  anywhere,  to  leave  them 
anywhere,  or  apparently  to  part  with  them  in  any 
way  whatever.  Presumably  you  are  expected  to 
carry  them  about  with  you  until  you  die,  and 
then  be  buried  with  them.  Or  maybe  you  are 
allowed  to  swallow  them. 

In  German  streets  you  must  not  shoot  with  a 
cross-bow.  The  German  law-maker  does  not 
content  himself  with  the  misdeeds  of  the  average 
man  :  the  crimes  one  feels  one  wants  to  do,  but 
must  not  ;  he  worries  himself  imagining  all  the 
things  a  wandering  maniac  might  do.  In  Ger- 
many there  is  no  law  against  a  man  standing  on 
his  head  in  the  middle  of  the  road  ;  the  idea  has 
not  occurred  to  them.  One  of  these  days  a  Ger- 
man statesman,  visiting  a  circus  and  seeing  acro- 
bats, will  reflect  upon  this  omission.  Then  he 
will  straightway  set  to  work  and  frame  a  clause 
forbidding  people  from  standing  on  their  heads 
in  the  middle  of  the  road,  and  fixing  a  fine.  This 
is  the  charm  of  German  law  :  misdemeanour  in 
Germany  has  its  fixed  price.  You  are  not  kept 

186 


In    Toils   of  German    La 


w 


awake  all  night,  as  in  England,  wondering  whether 
you  will  get  off  with  a  caution,  be  fined  forty 
shillings  or,  catching  the  magistrate  in  an  unhappy 
moment  for  yourself,  get  seven  days.  You  know 
exactly  what  your  fun  is  going  to  cost  you.  You 
can  spread  out  your  money  on  the  table,  open 
your  Police  Guide,  and  plan  out  your  evening  to 
a  fifty-pfennig  piece.  For  a  really  cheap  evening 
I  would  recommend  walking  on  the  wrong  side 
of  the  pavement  after  being  cautioned  not  to  do 
so.  I  calculate  that  by  choosing  your  district 
and  keeping  to  the  quiet  side-streets  you  could 
walk  for  a  whole  evening  on  the  wrong  side  of 
the  pavement  at  a  cost  .of  little  over  three 
marks. 

In  German  towns  you  must  not  ramble  about 
after  dark  "  in  droves."  I  am  not  quite  sure  how 
many  constitute  a  "  drove,"  and  no  official  to 
whom  I  have  spoken  on  this  subject  has  felt  him- 
self competent  to  fix  the  exact  number.  I  once 
put  it  to  a  German  friend  who  was  starting  to  the 
theatre  with  his  wife,  his  mother-in-law,  five  chil- 
dren of  his  own,  his  sister  and  her  fiance,  and  two 
nieces,  if  he  did  not  think  he  was  running  a  risk 
under  this  by-law.  He  did  not  take  my  sugges- 
tion as  a  joke.  He  cast  an  eye  over  the  group. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  so,"  he  said  ;  "  you  see  we 
are  all  one  family." 

"  The  paragraph  says  nothing  about  its  being 
a  family  drove  or  not,"  I  replied.  "  It  simply 

187 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    ft^h  eels 

says  c  drove/  I  do  not  mean  it  in  any  uncompli- 
mentary sense ;  but,  speaking  etymologically,  I 
am  inclined  personally  to  regard  your  collection 
as  a  c  drove/  Whether  the  police  will  take  the 
same  view  or  not  remains  to  be  seen.  I  am 
merely  warning  you/' 

My  friend  was  inclined  to  pooh-hooh  my  fears, 
but,  his  wife  thinking  it  better  not  to  run  any 
risk  of  having  the  party  broken  up  at  the  very 
beginning  of  the  evening,  they  divided,  arranging 
to  come  together  again  in  the  theatre  lobby. 

Another  passion  you  must  restrain  in  Germany 
is  that  prompting  you  to  throw  things  out  of 
window.  Cats  are  no  excuse.  During  the  first 
week  of  my  residence  in  Germany  I  was  awakened 
incessantly  by  cats.  One  night  I  got  mad.  I 
collected  a  small  arsenal:  two  or  three  pieces  of 
coal,  a  few  hard  pears,  a  couple  of  candle  ends,  an 
odd  egg  I  found  on  the  kitchen  table,  an  empty 
soda  water  bottle  and  a  few  articles  of  that  sort, 
and,  opening  the  window,  bombarded  the  spot 
from  where  the  noise  appeared  to  come.  I  do 
not  suppose  I  hit  anything ;  I  never  knew  a  man 
who  did  hit  a  cat,  even  when  he  could  see  it,  ex- 
cept maybe  by  accident  when  aiming  at  something 
else.  I  have  known  crack  shots,  winners  of 
Queen's  prizes  —  that  sort  of  men  —  shoot  wifh 
shot  guns  at  cats  fifty  yards  away  and  never  hit  a 
hair.  I  have  often  thought  that  instead  of  bull's- 
eyes,  running  deer  and  that  rubbish,  the  really 

188 


In    Toils  of  German   L 


a  w 


superior  marksman  would  be  he  who  could  boast 
that  he  had  shot  the  cat. 


"  He  bombarded  the  spot " 

But,  anyhow,  they  moved  off;  maybe  the  egg 
annoyed  them.     I  had  noticed  when  I  picked  it 

189 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

up  that  it  did  not  look  like  a  good  egg,  and  I 
went  back  to  bed  again,  thinking  the  incident 
closed.  Ten  minutes  afterward  there  came  a 
violent  ringing  of  the  electric  bell.  1  tried  to 
ignore  it,  but  it  was  too  persistent,  and,  putting 
on  my  dressing-gown,  I  went  down  to  the  gate. 
A  policeman  was  standing  there.  He  had  all 
the  things  I  had  been  throwing  out  of  the 
window  in  a  little  heap  in  front  of  him,  all  except 
the  egg ;  he  had  evidently  been  collecting  them. 
He  said : 

"  Are  these  things  yours  ?  " 
I   said :  "  They  were  mine,  but  personally  I 
have  done  with  them.     Anybody  can  have  them 
— you  can  have  them." 

He  ignored  my  offer.     He  said : 
"  You  threw  these  things  out  of  window  ?  " 
"  You  are  right,"  I  admitted ;  "  I  did." 
"  Why  did  you  throw  them  out  of  window  ?  " 
he  asked.     A  German   policeman  has  his    code 
of  questions  arranged  for  him  ;  he  never  varies 
them,  and  he  never  omits  one. 

"  I  threw  them  out  of  the  window  at  some 
cats,"  I  answered. 

"What  cats?"  he  asked. 

It  was  the  sort  of  question  a  German  police- 
man would  ask.  I  replied  with  as  much  sarcasm 
as  I  could  put  into  my  accent  that  I  was  ashamed 
to  say  I  could  not  tell  him  what  cats.  I 
explained  that  personally  they  were  strangers  to 

190 


In    Toils   of  German    La 


w 


me  ,  but  I  offered,  if  the  police  would  call  all  the 
cats  in  his  district  together,  to  come  around  and 
see  if  I  could  recognize  them  by  their  yawl. 

The  German  policeman  does  not  understand  a 
joke,  which  is,  perhaps  on  the  whole,  just  as  well, 
for  I  believe  there  is  a  heavy  fine  for  joking  with 
any  German  uniform ;  they  call  it  "  treating  an 
official  with  contumely."  He  merely  replied  that 
it  was  not  the  duty  of  the  police  to  help  me 
recognize  the  cats  ;  their  duty  was  merely  to  fine 
me  for  throwing  things  out  of  window. 

I  asked  what  a  man  was  supposed  to  do  in 
Germany  when  woke  up  night  after  night  by 
cats,  and  he  explained  that  I  could  lodge  an 
information  against  the  owner  of  the  cat,  when 
the  police  would  proceed  to  caution  him,  and  if 
necessary  order  the  cat  to  be  destroyed ;  who  was 
going  to  destroy  the  cat,  and  what  the  cat  would 
be  doing  during  the  process,  he  did  not  explain. 

I  asked  him  how  he  proposed  I  should  dis- 
cover the  owner  of  the  cat.  He  thought  for  a 
while  and  then  suggested  that  I  might  follow  it 
home.  I  did  not  feel  inclined  to  argue  with  him 
any  more  after  that;  I  should  only  have  said 
things  that  would  have  made  the  matter  worse. 
As  it  was,  that  night's  sport  cost  me  twelve 
marks,  and  not  a  single  one  of  the  six  German 
officials  who  interviewed  me  on  the  subject  could 
see  anything  ridiculous  in  the  proceedings  from 
beginning  to  end. 

191 


r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

But  in  Germany  most  human  faults  and  follies 
sink  into  insignificance  beside  the  enormity  of 
walking  on  the  grass.  Nowhere,  and  under  no 
circumstances,  may  you  at  any  time  in  Germany 
walk  upon  the  grass.  Grass  in  Germany  is  quite 
a  fetich.  To  put  your  foot  on  German  grass 
would  be  as  great  a  sacrilege  as  to  dance  a  horn- 
pipe on  a  Mohammedan's  praying-mat.  The 
very  dogs  respect  the  German  grass ;  no  German 
dog  would  dream  of  putting  a  paw  upon  it.  If 
you  see  a  dog  scampering  across  the  grass  in 
Germany  you  may  know  for  certain  that  it  is 
the  dog  of  some  unholy  foreigner.  In  England, 
when  we  want  to  keep  dogs  out  of  places,  we  put 
up  wire  netting,  six  feet  high,  supported  by  but- 
tresses, and  defended  on  the  top  by  spikes.  In 
Germany  they  put  a  notice-board  in  the  middle 
of  the  place  :  "  Hunden  verboten,"  and  a  dog 
that  has  German  blood  in  its  veins  looks  at  that 
notice-board  and  walks  away.  In  a  German  park 
I  have  seen  a  gardener  step  gingerly  with  felt 
boots  on  to  a  grass  plot,  and  removing  therefrom 
a  beetle,  place  it  gravely  but  firmly  on  the  gravel, 
which  done  he  stood  sternly  watching  that  beetle 
to  see  that  it  did  not  try  to  get  back  on  to  the 
grass  ;  and  the  beetle,  looking  utterly  ashamed 
of  itself,  walked  hurriedly  down  the  gutter  and 
turned  up  the  first  path  marked  "  Way  out." 

In  German  parks  separate  roads  are  devoted 
to  the  different  orders  of  the  community,  and  no 

192 


In    Toils  of  German   Law 

one  person,  at  peril  of  their  liberty  and  fortune, 
may  go  upon  another  person's  road.  There  are 
special  paths  for  "wheel-riders,"  and  special  paths 
for  "  foot-goers,"  avenues  for  "  horse-riders,"  roads 
for  people  in  light  vehicles,  and  roads  for  people 
in  heavy  vehicles  ;  ways  for  children  and  for 
"alone  ladies."  That  no  particular  route  has 
yet  been  set  aside  for  bald-headed  men  or  "  new 
women  "  has  always  struck  me  as  an  omission. 

In  the  Grosse  Garten  in  Dresden  I  once  came 
across  an  old  lady  standing  helpless  and  bewildered 
in  the  centre  of  seven  tracks.  Each  was  guarded 
by  a  threatening  notice  warning  everybody  off  it 
but  the  person  for  whom  it  was  intended. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  trouble  you,"  said  the  old  lady, 
on  learning  I  could  speak  English  and  read 
German,  "  but  would  you  mind  telling  me  what 
I  am  and  where  I  have  to  go  ?  " 

I  inspected  her  carefully.  I  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  she  was  a  "  grown-up  "  and  a  "  foot- 
goer,"  and  pointed  out  her  path.  She  looked  at 
it  and  seemed  disappointed. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  go  down  there,"  she 
said ;  "  may  n't  I  go  this  way  ?  " 

"  Great  Heavens,  no,  madam  ! "  I  replied. 
"  That  path  is  reserved  for  children." 

"  But  I  would  n't  do  them  any  harm,"  said 
the  old  lady  with  a  smile.  She  did  not  look  the 
sort  of  old  lady  who  would  have  done  them  any 
harm. 

13  193 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

"  Madam/'  I  replied,  "  if  it  rested  with  me  I 
would  trust  you  down  that  path,  though  my  own 
first-born  were  at  the  other  end ;  but  I  can  only 
inform  you  of  the  laws  of  this  country.  For 
you,  a  full-grown  woman,  to  venture  down  that 
path  is  to  go  to  certain  fine,  if  not  imprisonment. 
There  is  your  path  marked  plainly,  c  Nur  fur 
Fussganger,'  and  if  you  will  follow  my  advice 
you  will  hasten  down  it ;  you  are  not  allowed  to 
stand  here  and  hesitate." 

"  It  does  n't  lead  a  bit  in  the  direction  I  want 
to  go,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"It  leads  in  the  direction  you  ought  to  want  to 
go,"  I  replied,  and  we  parted. 

In  the  German  parks  there  are  especial  seats 
labelled,  "  Only  for  grown-ups  "  (Nur  fur  Erwach- 
sene),  and  the  German  small  boy,  anxious  to  sit 
down,  and  reading  that  notice,  passes  by  and 
hunts  for  a  seat  on  which  children  are  permitted 
to  rest,  and  there  he  seats  himself,  careful  not 
to  touch  the  woodwork  with  his  muddy  boots. 
Imagine  a  seat  in  Regent's  or  St.  James'  Park 
labelled,  "  Only  for  grown-ups  "  !  Every  child 
for  five  miles  around  would  be  trying  to  get  on 
that  seat,  and  hauling  other  children  off  who 
were  on.  As  for  any  "  grown-up,"  he  would 
never  be  able  to  get  within  half  a  mile  of  that 
seat  for  the  crowd.  The  German  small  boy  who 
has  accidentally  sat  down  on  such  without  notic- 
ing, rises  with  a  start  when  his  error  is  pointed 

194 


In    Toils  of  German   La 


w 


out  to  him,  and  goes  away  with  downcast  head, 
blushing  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  with  shame  and 
regret. 

Not  that  the  German  child  is  neglected  by  a 
paternal  Government.  In  German  parks  and 
public  gardens  especial  play-places  (Spielplatze) 
are  provided  for  him,  each  one  supplied  with  a 
heap  of  sand.  There  he  can  play  to  his  heart's 
content  at  making  mud  pies  and  building  sand 
castles.  To  the  German  child  a  pie  made  of  any 
other  mud  than  this  would  appear  an  immoral 
pie.  It  would  give  to  him  no  satisfaction :  his 
soul  would  revolt  against  it. 

"  That  pie,"  he  would  say  to  himself,  "  was 
not,  as  it  should  have  been,  made  of  Government 
mud  especially  set  apart  for  the  purpose ;  it  was 
not  manufactured  in  the  place  planned  and  main- 
tained by  the  Government  for  the  making  of  mud 
pies.  It  can  bring  no  real  blessing  with  it ;  it  is 
a  lawless  pie."  And  until  his  father  had  paid  the 
proper  fine  and  he  had  received  the  proper  licking 
his  conscience  would  continue  to  trouble  him. 

Another  excellent  piece  of  material  for  obtain- 
ing excitement  in  Germany  is  the  simple  domestic 
perambulator.  What  you  may  do  with  a  Kinder- 
wagen,  as  it  is  called,  and  what  you  may  not, 
covers  pages  of  German  law,  after  the  reading  of 
which  you  conclude  that  the  man  who  can  push 
a  perambulator  through  a  German  town  without 
breaking  the  law  was  meant  for  a  diplomatist. 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    IFh  eels 

You  must  not  loiter  with  a  perambulator,  and  you 
must  not  go  too  fast.  You  must  not  get  in  any- 
body's way  with  a  perambulator,  and  if  anybody 
gets  in  your  way  you  must  get  out  of  their  way. 
If  you  want  to  stop  with  a  perambulator  you 
must  go  to  a  place  especially  appointed  where 
perambulators  may  stop  ;  and  when  you  get  there 
you  must  stop.  You  must  not  cross  the  road 
with  a  perambulator ;  if  you  and  the  baby  happen 
to  live  on  the  other  side,  that  is  your  fault.  You 
must  not  leave  your  perambulator  anywhere,  and 
only  in  certain  places  can  you  take  it  with  you. 
I  should  say  that  in  Germany  you  could  go  out 
with  a  perambulator  and  get  into  enough  trouble 
in  half  an  hour  to  last  you  for  a  month.  Any 
young  Englishman  anxious  for  a  row  with  the 
police  could  not  do  better  than  come  over  to 
Germany  and  bring  his  perambulator  with  him. 

In  Germany  you  must  not  leave  your  own 
front  door  unlocked  after  ten  o'clock  at  night, 
and  you  must  not  play  the  piano  in  your  own 
house  after  eleven.  In  England  I  have  never 
felt  I  wanted  to  play  the  piano  myself  or  to  hear 
any  one  else  play  it  after  eleven  o'clock  at  night ; 
but  that  is  a  very  different  thing  to  being  told 
that  you  must  not  play  it.  Here  in  Germany  I 
never  feel  that  I  really  care  for  the  piano  until 
eleven  o'clock ;  then  I  could  sit  and  listen  to  the 
Maiden's  Prayer  or  the  Overture  from  Zampa 
with  pleasure.  To  the  law-loving  German,  on 

196 


In    Toils   of  German   La 


w 


the  other  hand,  music  after  eleven  o'clock  at 
night  ceases  to  be  music ;  it  becomes  sin  ;  and  as 
such  gives  him  no  satisfaction. 

The  only  individual  throughout  Germany  who 
ever  dreams  of  taking  liberties  with  the  law  is  the 
German  student,  and  he  only  to  a  certain  well- 
defined  point.  By  custom  certain  privileges  are 
permitted  to  him,  but  even  these  are  strictly 
limited  and  clearly  understood.  For  instance,  the 
German  student  may  get  drunk  and  fall  asleep  in 
the  gutter  with  no  other  penalty  than  that  of 
having  to  tip  the  next  morning  the  policeman 
who  finds  him  and  brings  him  home.  But  for 
this  purpose  he  must  choose  the  gutters  of  side 
streets.  The  German  student,  conscious  of  the 
rapid  approach  of  oblivion,  uses  all  his  remaining 
energy  to  get  around  the  corner,  where  he  may 
collapse  without  anxiety.  In  certain  districts  he  ** 
may  ring  bells.  The  rent  of  flats  in  these  locali^ 
ties  is  lower  than  in  other  quarters  of  the  town  ; 
while  the  difficulty  is  further  met  by  each  family 
preparing  for  itself  a  secret  code  of  bell-ringing 
by  means  of  which  it  is  known  whether  the  sum- 
mons is  genuine  or  not.  When  visiting  such  a 
household  late  at  night  it  is  well  to  be  acquainted 
with  this  code,  or  you  may,  if  persistent,  get  a 
bucket  of  water  thrown  over  you. 

Also,  the  German  student  is  allowed  to  put  out 
lights  at  night,  but  there  is  a  prejudice  against 
his  putting  out  too  many.  The  larky  German 

197 


r  e  e   Men   on    W h  eels 

student  generally  keeps  count,  contenting  himself 
with  half  a  dozen  lights  per  night.  Likewise,  he 
may  shout  and  sing  as  he  walks  home  up  till 
half-past  two ;  and  at  certain  restaurants  it  is 
permitted  to  him  to  put  his  arm  around  the 
Fraulein's  waist.  To  prevent  any  suggestion  of 
unseemliness,  the  waitresses  at  restaurants  fre- 
quented by  students  are  always  carefully  selected 
from  among  a  staid  and  elderly  class  of  women, 
by  reason  of  which  the  German  student  can  enjoy 
the  delights  of  flirtation  without  fear  and  without 
reproach  to  any  one. 

They  are  a  law-abiding  people,  the  Germans. 


198 


X.  — THE  WAYS  OF  THE 
GERMAN  DOG 

FROM  Baden,  about  which  it  need  only 
be  said  that  it  is  a  pleasure  resort  singu- 
larly like  other  pleasure  resorts  of  the 
same  description,  we  started  bicyling  in 
earnest.  We  planned  a  ten-days'  tour 
which,  while  completing  the  Black  Forest,  should 
include  a  spin  down  the  Donau-Thal,  which  for 
the  twenty  miles  from  Tuttlingen  to  Sigmaringen 
is,  perhaps,  the  finest  valley  in  all  Germany  :  the 
Danube  stream,  here  winding  its  narrow  way 
past  old-world,  unspoiled  villages  ;  past  ancient 
monasteries,  nestling  in  green  pastures,  where 
still  the  bare-footed  and  bare-headed  friar,  his 
rope  girdle  tight  fcbout  his  Joins,  shepherds,  with 
crook  in  hand,  their  sheep  upon  the  hillsides ; 
through  rocky  woods  ;  between  sheer  walls  of 
cliff,  whose  every  towering  crag  stands  crowned 
with  ruined  fortress,  church,  or  castle ;  together 
with  a  blick  at  the  Vosges  Mountains,  where  half 
the  population  is  bitterly  pained  if  you  speak  to 
them  in  French,  the  other  half  being  insulted 
when  you  address  them  in  German,  and  the 
whole  indignantly  contemptuous  at  the  first  sound 
of  English  ;  a  state  of  things  that  renders  conver- 
sation with  the  stranger  somewhat  nervous  work. 

199     . 


T'h  r  e  e  Men   on    Wh  eels 

We  did  not  succeed  in  carrying  out  our  pro- 
gramme in  its  entirety,  for  the  reason  that  human 
performance  lags  ever  behind  human  intention. 
It  is  easy  to  say  and  believe  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  that :  "  We  will  rise  at  five,  breakfast 
lightly  at  half-past,  and  start  away  at  six." 

"  Then  we  shall  be  well  on  our  way  before  the 
heat  of  the  day  sets  in,"  remarks  one. 

"  This  time  of  the  year,  the  early  morning  is 
really  the  best  part  of  the  day.  Don't  you  think 
so  ?  "  adds  another. 

"  Oh,  undoubtedly." 

"  So  cool  and  fresh." 

"  And  the  half  lights  are  so  exquisite." 

The  first  morning  one  maintains  one's  vows. 
The  party  assembles  at  half-past  five.  It  is  very 
silent ;  individually,  somewhat  snappy  ;  inclined 
to  grumble  with  its  food ;  also  with  most  other 
things ;  the  atmosphere  charged  with  compressed 
irritability,  seeking  its  vent.  In  the  evening  the 
Tempter's  voice  is  heard  : 

"  I  think  if  we  got  off  by  half-past  six,  sharp, 
that  would  be  time  enough  ?  " 

The  voice  of  Virtue  protests  faintly  :  "  It  will 
be  breaking  our  resolution." 

Then  Tempter  replies :  "  Resolutions  were 
made  for  man,  not  man  for  resolutions/'  The 
devil  can  paraphrase  Scripture  for  his  own  purpose. 
"  Besides,  it  is  disturbing  the  whole  hotel ;  think 
of  the  poor  servants." 


200 


IF  ay  s  of  the   German   Dog 

The  voice  of  Virtue  continues,  but  even  feebler : 
"  But  everybody  gets  up  early  in  these  parts." 

"  They  would  not  if  they  were  not  obliged 
to,  poor  things.  Say  breakfast  at  half-past  six, 
punctual ;  that  will  be  disturbing  nobody." 

Thus  Sin  masquerades  under  the  guise  of  Good, 
and  one  sleeps  till  six,  explaining  to  one's  con- 
science, who,  hpwever,  does  n't  believe  it,  that 
one  does  this  because  of  unselfish  consideration 
for  others.  I  have  known  such  consideration 
extend  until  seven  of  the  clock. 

Likewise  distance  measured  with  a  pair  of 
compasses  is  not  precisely  the  same  as  when 
measured  by  the  leg. 

"  Ten  miles  an  hour  for  seven  hours,  seventy 
miles.  A  nice,  easy  day's  work." 

"  There  are  some  stiff  hills  to  climb  ?  " 

"The  other  side  to  come  down.  Say  eight 
miles  an  hour,  and  call  it  sixty  miles.  If  we 
can't  average  eight  miles  an  hour  we  had  better 
go  in  bath-chairs."  It  does  seem  somewhat 
impossible  to  do  less,  on  paper. 

But  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  voice 
of  Duty  rings  less  trumpet-toned. 

c  Well,  I  suppose  we  ought  to  be  getting  on." 

"Oh,  there's  no  hurry;  don't  fuss.  Lovely 
view  from  here,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Very.  Don't  forget  we  are  twenty-five  miles 
from  St.  Blasien." 

"How  far?" 

2OI 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on  Wh  eels 

"  Twenty-five  miles  ;  a  little  over,  if  anything." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  we  have  only  come 
thirty-five  miles  ?  " 

"  That  's  all." 

"  Nonsense.  I  don't  believe  that  map  of 
yours." 

"  It  is  impossible,  you  know.  We  have  been 
riding  steadily  ever  since  the  first  thing  this 
morning." 

"  No,  we  have  n't.  We  did  n't  get  away  till 
eight,  to  begin  with." 

"  Quarter  to  eight." 

"  Well,  quarter  to  eight ;  and  every  half-dozen 
miles  we  have  stopped." 

"  We  have  only  stopped  to  look  at  the  view. 
It 's  no  good  coming  to  see  a  country  and  then 
not  seeing  it." 

"  And  we  have  had  to  pull  up  some  stiff  hills." 

"  Besides,  it  has  been  an  exceptionally  hot  day." 

"  Well,  don't  forget  St.  Blasien  is  twenty-five 
miles  off,  that's  all." 

"  Any  more  hills  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  two,  up  and  down." 

"  I  thought  you  said  it  was  downhill  into  St. 
Blasien  ?  " 

"So  it  is  for  the  last  ten  miles.  We  are 
twenty-five  miles  from  St.  Blasien  here." 

"Is  n't  there  anywhere  between  here  and  St. 
Blasien  ?  What 's  that  little  place  there  on  the 
lake  ?  " 

202 


Iff  ays  of  the   German   Dog 

"  It  is  n't  St.  Blasien,  or  anywhere  near  it. 
There  's  a  danger  in  beginning  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  There  's  a  danger  in  overworking  one's  self. 
One  should  study  moderation  in  all  things. 
Pretty  little  place,  that  Titisee,  according  to  the 
map  ;  looks  as  if  there  would  be  good  air  there." 

"  All  right,  I  'm  agreeable.  It  was  you  fellows 
suggested  our  making  for  St.  Blasien/' 

"  Oh,  I  'm  not  so  keen  on  St.  Blasien  —  poky 
little  place,  down  in  a  valley.  This  Titisee,  I 
should  say,  was  ever  so  much  nicer." 

"  Quite  near,  is  n't  it?" 

"  Five  miles." 

General  chorus  :  "  We  '11  stop  at  Titisee." 

George  made  discovery  of  this  difference  be- 
tween theory  and  practice  on  the  very  first  day  of 
our  ride. 

"  I  thought,"  said  George  —  he  was  riding  the 
single,  Harris  and  I  being  a  little  ahead  on 
the  tandem — "that  the  idea  was  to  train  up 
the  hills,  and  ride  down  them." 

"  So  it  is,"  answered  Harris,  "  as  a  general  rule. 
But  the  trains  don't  go  up  every  hill  in  the  Black 
Forest." 

"Somehow  I  felt  a  suspicion  that  they 
would  n't,"  growled  George ;  and  for  awhile 
silence  reigned. 

"  Besides,"  remarked  Harris,  who  had  evidently 
been  ruminating  the  subject,  "you  would  not 
wish  to  have  nothing  but  downhill,  surely.  It 

203 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

would  not  be  playing  the  game.     One  must  take 
a  little  rough  with  one's  smooth." 

Again  there  returned  silence,  broken  after 
awhile  by  George,  this  time. 

"  Don't  you  two  fellows  over-exert  yourselves 
merely  on  my  account,"  said  George. 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Harris. 

"  I  mean,"  answered  George,  "  that  where  a 
train  does  happen  to  be  going  up  these  hills, 
don't  you  put  aside  the  idea  of  taking  it  for  fear 
of  outraging  my  finer  feelings.  Personally,  I  am 
prepared  to  go  up  all  these  hills  in  a  railway  train, 
even  if  it 's  not  playing  the  game.  I  '11  square 
the  thing  with  my  conscience  ;  I  've  been  up  at 
seven  every  day  for  a  week  now,  and  I  calculate 
it  owes  me  a  bit.  Don't  you  consider  me  in  the 
matter  at  all." 

We  promised  to  bear  this  in  mind,  and  again 
the  ride  continued  in  dogged  dumbness,  until  it 
was  again  broken  by  George. 

"  What  bicycle  did  you  say  this  was  of  yours  ?  " 
asked  George." 

Harris  told  him.  I  forget  of  what  particular 
manufacture  it  happened  to  be ;  it  is  immaterial. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  persisted  George. 

"  Of  course  I  'm  sure,"  answered  Harris. 
"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  does  n't  come  up  to  the  poster,"  said 
George,  "that's  all." 

"  What  poster  ?  "  asked  Harris. 
204 


c  Don't  you  two  fellows  over-exert  yours  el 


ves  on 


my  account 


of  the   German   Dog 


"  The  poster  advertising   this  particular  brand 
of  cycle/'  explained  George.     "  I  was  looking  at 

"?MI«M!ftM!* 


7  was  looting  at  one  on  a  hoarding ' ' 


one  on  a  hoarding  in  Sloane  Street  only  a  day  or 
two  before  we  started.  A  man  was  riding  this 
make  of  machine  —  a  man  with  a  banner  in  his 

205 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    JFh  eels 

hand ;  he  was  n't  doing  any  work,  that  was  as' 
clear  as  daylight ;  he  was  just  sitting  on  the  thing 
and  drinking  in  the  air.  The  bicycle  was  going 
of  its  own  accord,  and  going  well.  This  thing 
of  yours  leaves  all  the  work  to  me.  It  is  a  lazy 
brute  of  a  machine ;  if  you  don't  shove,  it  simply 
does  nothing.  I  should  complain  about  it  if  I 
were  you." 

When  one  comes  to  think  of  it,  few  bicycles 
do  realize  the  poster.  On  only  one  poster  that 
I  can  recollect  have  I  seen  the  rider  represented 
as  doing  any  work.  But  then,  this  man  was 
being  pursued  by  a  bull.  In  ordinary  cases  the 
object  of  the  artist  is  to  convince  the  hesitating 
neophyte  that  the  sport  of  bicycling  consists  in 
sitting  on  a  luxurious  saddle  and  being  moved 
rapidly  in  the  direction  you  wish  to  go  by  unseen 
Heavenly  powers. 

Generally  speaking,  the  rider  is  a  lady,  and 
then  one  feels,  that  for  perfect  bodily  rest  com- 
bined with  entire  freedom  from  mental  anxiety, 
slumber  upon  a  water-bed  cannot  compare  with 
bicycle  riding  upon  a  hilly  road.  No  fairy 
travelling  on  a  summer  cloud  could  take  things 
more  easily  than  does  the  bicycle  girl,  according 
to  the  poster.  Her  costume  for  cycling  in  hot 
weather  is  ideal.  Old-fashioned  landladies  might 
refuse  her  lunch,  it  is  true  ;  and  a  narrow-minded 
police  force  might  desire  to  secure  her  and  wrap 
her  in  a  rug  preliminary  to  summonsing  her. 

206 


IF ay  s  of  the   German  Dog 

But  such  she  heeds  not.  Uphill  and  downhill, 
through  traffic  that  might  tax  the  ingenuity  of  a 
cat,  over  road  surfaces  calculated  to  break  the 
average  steam-roller  she  passes,  a  vision  of  idle 
loveliness ;  her  fair  hair  streaming  to  the  wind, 
her  sylph-like  form  poised  airily,  one  foot  upon 
the  saddle,  the  other  resting  lightly  upon  the 
lamp.  Sometimes  she  condescends  to  sit  down 
on  the  saddle  ;  then  she  puts  her  feet  upon  the 
rests,  lights  a  cigarette,  and  waves  above  her  head 
a  Chinese  lantern. 

Less  often,  it  is  a  mere  male  thing  that  rides  the 
machine.  He  is  not  so  accomplished  an  acrobat 
as  is  the  lady  :  but  simple  tricks,  such  as  standing 
on  the  saddle  and  waving  flags,  drinking  beer  or 
beef-tea  while  riding,  he  can  and  does  perform  ; 
something,  one  supposes,  he  must  do  to  occupy 
his  mind.  Sitting  still  hour  after  hour  on  this 
machine,  having  no  work  to  do,  nothing  to  think 
about,  must  pall  upon  any  man  of  active  temper- 
ament. Thus  it  is  that  we  see  him  rising  on  his 
pedals,  as  he  nears  the  top  of  some  high  hill,  to 
apostrophise  the  sun  or  address  poetry  to  the 
surrounding  scenery. 

Occasionally  the  poster  pictures  a  pair  of 
cyclists  ;  and  then  one  grasps  the  fact  how  much 
superior  for  purposes  of  flirtation  is  the  modern 
bicycle  to  the  old-fashioned  parlor  or  the  played- 
out  garden  gate.  He  and  she  mount  their 
bicycles,  being  careful,  of  course,  that  they  are  of 

207 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    IFh  eels 

the  right  make.  After  that  they  have  nothing 
to  think  about  but  the  old  sweet  tale.  Down 
shady  lanes,  through  busy  towns  on  market  days, 
merrily  roll  the  wheels  of  the  "  Bermondsey 
Company's  Bottom  Bracket  Britain's  Best,"  or  of 
the  "  Camberwell  Company's  Jointless  Eureka." 
They  need  no  pedalling ;  they  require  no  guiding. 
Give  them  their  heads,  and  tell  them  what  time 
you  want  to  get  home,  and  that  is  all  they  ask. 
While  Edwin  leans  from  his  saddle  to  whisper 
the  dear  old  nothings  in  Angelina's ,  ear,  while 
Angelina's  face,  to  hide  its  blushes,  is  turned 
toward  the  horizon  at  the  back,  the  magic  bicycles 
pursue  their  even  course. 

And  the  sun  is  always  shining,  and  the  roads 
are  always  dry.  No  stern  parent  rides  behind, 
no  interfering  aunt  beside,  no  demon  small-boy 
brother  is  peeping  around  the  corner ;  there  never 
comes  a  skid :  Ah,  me  !  Why  were  there  no 
"  Britain's  Best"  nor  "Camberwell  Eurekas  "  to 
be  hired  when  we  were  young  ? 

Or  maybe  the  "  Britain's  Best "  or  the  "  Cam- 
berwell Eureka  "  stands  leaning  against  a  gate  ; 
maybe  it  is  tired.  It  has  worked  hard  all  the 
afternoon,  carrying  these  young  people.  Merci- 
fully minded,  they  have  dismounted,  to  give  the 
machine  a  rest.  They  sit  upon  the  grass  beneath 
the  shade  of  graceful  boughs;  it  is  long  and  dry 
grass.  A  stream  flows  by  their  feet.  All  is  idle- 
ness and  peace. 

208 


U^  ay  s   of  the    German   Dog 

That  is  ever  the  idea  the  cycle  poster  artist 
sets  himself  to  convey  —  idleness  and  peace. 

But  I  am  wrong  in  saying  that  no  cyclist, 
according  to  the  poster,  ever  works.  Now  I 
come  to  reflect,  I  have  seen  posters  representing 
gentlemen  on  cycles  working  very  hard  —  over- 
working themselves,  one  might  almost  say. 
They  are  thin  and  haggard  with  the  toil,  the 
perspiration  stands  upon  their  brow  in  beads  ; 
you  feel  that  if  there  is  another  hill  beyond  the 
poster  they  must  either  get  off  or  die.  But  this 
is  the  result  of  their  own  folly.  This  happens 
because  they  will  persist  in  riding  a  machine  of 
an  inferior  make.  Were  they  riding  a  "  Putney 
Popular  "  or  cc  Battersea  Bounder  "  such  as  the 
sensible  young  man  in  the  centre  of  the  poster 
rides,  then  all  this  unnecessary  labour  would  be 
saved  to  them.  Then  all  required  of  them  would 
be,  as  in  gratitude  bound,  to  look  happy;  per- 
haps occasionally  to  back-pedal  a  little  when  the 
machine  in  its  youthful  buoyancy  loses  its  head 
for  a  moment  and  dashes  on  too  swiftly. 

You  tired  young  men,  sitting  dejectedly  on 
milestones,  too  spent  to  heed  the  steady  rain 
that  soaks  you  through ;  you  weary  maidens, 
with  the  straight,  damp  hair,  anxious  about  the 
time,  longing  to  swear,  not  knowing  how  ;  you 
stout,  bald  men,  vanishing  visibly  as  you  pant 
and  grunt  along  the  endless  road  ;  you  purple, 
dejected  matrons,  plying  with  pain  the  slow,  un- 
14  209 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

willing  wheel  —  why  did  you  not  see  to  it  that 
you  bought  a  "Britain's  Best"  or  a  "Camberwell 
Eureka"  ?  Why  are  these  bicycles  of  inferior 
make  so  prevalent  throughout  the  land? 

Or  is  it  with  bicycling  as  with  all  other  things  ? 
—  does  life  at  no  point  realize  the  poster  ? 

The  one  thing  in  Germany  that  never  fails  to 
charm  and  fascinate  me  is  the  German  dog.  In 
England  one  grows  tired  of  the  old  breeds,  one 
knows  them  all  so  well  :  the  mastiff,  the 
plum-pudding  dog,  the  terrier  (black,  white,  or 
rough-haired,  as.  the  case  may  be,  but  always 
quarrelsome),  the  collie,  the  bull  dog;  never 
anything  new.  Now,  in  Germany  you  get  variety. 
You  come  across  dogs  the  like  of  which  you  have 
never  seen  before ;  that  until  you  hear  them  bark 
you  do  not  know  are  dogs.  It  is  all  so  fresh,  so 
interesting.  George  stopped  a  dog  in  Sigma- 
ringen,  and  drew  our  attention  to  it.  It  sug- 
gested a  cross  between  a  codfish  and  a  poodle. 
I  would  not  like  to  be  positive  it  was  not  a  cross 
between  a  codfish  and  a  poodle.  Harris  tried  to 
photograph  it,  but  it  ran  up  a  fence  and  dis- 
appeared through  some  bushes. 

I  do  not  know  what  the  German  breeder's  idea 
is  ;  at  present  he  retains  his  secret.  George  sug- 
gests he  is  aiming  at  a  griffin.  There  is  much  to 
bear  out  this  theory ;  and  indeed,  in  one  or  two 
cases  I  have  come  across,  success  on  these  lines 
would  seem  to  have  been  almost  achieved.  Yet 


210 


W ay  s   of  the    German   Dog 

I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  that  such  are 
anything  more  than  mere  accidents.  The  Ger- 
man mind  is  practical,  and  I  fail  to  see  the  object 
of  a  griffin.  If  mere  quaintness  of  design  be 
desired,  is  there  not  already  the  dachshund  ? 
What  more  is  needed  ?  Besides,  about  a  house, 
a  griffin  would  be  so  inconvenient ;  people  would 
be  continually  treading  on  its  tail. ...  My  own  idea 
is  that  what  the  Germans  are  trying  for  is  a  mer- 
maid, which  they  will  then  train  to  catch  fish. 

For  your  German  does  not  encourage  laziness 
in  any  living  thing.  He  likes  to  see  his  dogs 
work,  and  the  German  dog  loves  work ;  of  that 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  The  life  of  the  English 
dog  must  be  a  misery  to  him.  Imagine  a  strong, 
active  and  intelligent  being,  of  exceptionally 
energetic  temperament,  condemned  to  spend 
twenty-four  hours  a  day  in  absolute  idleness  ! 
How  would  you  like  it  yourself?  No  wonder  he 
feels  misunderstood,  yearns  for  the  unattainable, 
and  gets  himself  into  trouble  generally. 

Now  the  German  dog,  on  the  other  hand,  has 
plenty  to  occupy  his  mind.  He  is  busy  and 
important.  Watch  him  as  he  walks  along  har- 
nessed to  his  milk  cart.  No  churchwarden  at 
collection  time  could  feel  or  look  more  pleased 
with  himself.  He  does  not  do  any  real  work; 
the  human  being  does  the  pushing,  he  does  the 
barking ;  that  is  his  idea  of  division  of  labour. 
What  he  says  to  himself  is  : 

211 


Three  Men   on    Wheels 

"  The  old  man  can't  bark,  but  he  can  shove. 
Very  well." 

The  interest  and  the  pride  he  takes  in  the 
business  are  quite  beautiful  to  see.  Another  dog 
passing  by  makes,  maybe,  some  jeering  remark, 
casting  discredit  upon  the  creaminess  of  the 
milk.  He  stops  suddenly,  quite  regardless  of 
the  traffic. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  what  was  that  you  said 
about  our  milk  ?  " 

"  I  said  nothing  about  your  milk,"  retorts  the 
other  dog,  in  a  tone  of  gentle  innocence  ;  "  I 
merely  said  it  was  a  fine  day,  arid  asked  the  price 
of  chalk." 

"  Oh,  you  asked  the  price  of  chalk,  did  you  ? 
Would  you  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  Yes,  thanks  ;  somehow  I  thought  you  would 
be  able  to  tell  me." 

"  You  are  quite  right ;  I  can.    It 's  worth " 

"  Oh,  do  come  along,"  says  the  old  lady,  who 
is  tired  and  hot,  and  anxious  to  finish  her  round. 

"  Yes,  but  hang  it  all ;  did  you  hear  what  he 
hinted  about  our  milk  ?  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  him.  There  's  a  tram  com- 
ing around  the  corner ;  we  shall  all  get  run  over." 

"  Yes,  but  I  do  mind  him ;  one  has  one's 
proper  pride.  He  asked  the  price  of  chalk,  and 
he's  going  to  know  it!  It's  worth  just  twenty 
times  as  much " 

"  You  '11  have  the  whole  thing  over,  I  know 

212 


Way  s   of  the   German   Dog 

you  will/*  cries  the  old  lady  pathetically,  struggling 
with  all  her  feeble  strength  to  haul  him  back. 
"  Oh,  dear,  oh,  dear  !  I  do  wish  I  had  left  you 
at  home." 

The  tram  is  bearing  down  upon  them ;  a  cab 
driver  is  shouting  at  them  ;  another  huge  brute, 
hoping  to  be  in  time  to  take  a  hand,  is  dragging 
a  bread  cart,  followed  by  a  screaming  child, 
across  the  road  from  the  opposite  side;  a  small 
crowd  is  collecting ;  and  a  policeman  is  hastening 
to  the  scene. 

"It's  worth,"  says  the  milk  dog,  "just  twenty 
times  as  much  as  you'll  be  worth  before  I've 
done  with  you." 

"  Oh,  you  think  so,  do  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  do,  you  grandson  of  a  French  spaniel, 
you  fried  fish-eating " 

"  There  !  I  knew  you  'd  have  it  over,"  says 
the  poor  milkwoman.  "  I  told  him  he  'd  have 
it  over." 

But  he  is  busy  and  heeds  her  not.  Five 
minutes  later,  when  the  traffic  is  renewed,  when 
the  bread  girl  has  collected  her  muddy  rolls,  and 
the  policeman  has  gone  off  with  the  name  and 
address  of  everybody  in  the  street,  he  consents 
to  look  behind  him. 

"  It  is  a  bit  of  an  upset,"  he  admits ;  then, 
shaking  himself  free  of  care,  he  adds  cheerfully : 
"  But  I  guess  I  taught  him  the  price  of  chalk. 
He  won't  interfere  with  us  again,  I  'm  thinking." 

213 


r  e  e   Men   on    ffih  eels 

"  I  'm  sure  I  hope  not/'  says  the  old  lady,  re- 
garding dejectedly  the  milky  road. 

But  his  favourite  sport  is  to  wait  at  the  top  of 
the  hill  for  another  dog,  and  then  race  down. 
On  these  occasions  the  chief  occupation  of  the 
other  fellow  is  to  run  about  behind,  picking  up 
the  scattered  articles,  loaves,  cabbages,  or  shirts, 
as  they  are  jerked  out.  At  the  bottom  of  the 
hill  he  stops  and  waits  for  his  friend. 

"  Good  race,  was  n't  it  ? "  he  remarks^  panting, 
as  the  Human  comes  up,  laden  to  the  chin. 
"  I  believe  I  'd  have  won  it,  too,  if  it  had  n't 
been  for  that  fool  of  a  small  boy.  He  was  right 
in  my  way  just  as  I  turned  the  corner.  Ton 
noticed  him  ?  Wish  /  had,  beastly  brat !  What 's 
he  yelling  like  that  for?  Because  I  knocked  him 
down  and  ran  over  him  ?  Well,  why  did  n't  he 
get  out  of  the  way  ?  It's  disgraceful,  the  way 
people  leave  their  children  about  for  other  creat- 
ures to  tumble  over.  Halloa !  did  all  those 
things  come  out?  You  couldn't  have  packed 
them  very  carefully;  you  should  see  to  a  thing 
like  that.  Tou  did  not  dream  of  my  tearing  down 
the  hill,  twenty  miles  an  hour  ?  Surely  you  know 
me  better  than  to  expect  I  'd  let  that  old 
Schneider's  dog  pass  me  without  an  effort.  But 
there,  you  never  think.  You're  sure  you've 
got  them  all?  Tou  believe  so?  I  shouldn't 
c  believe,'  if  I  were  you  ;  I  should  run  back  up 
the  hill  again  and  make  sure.  Tou  feel  too  tired? 

214 


Ways   of  the    German   Dog 

Oh,  all   right;    don't    blame  me   if  anything  is 
missing,  that's  all." 


"  They  both  abused  it 


He  is  so  self-willed.  He  is  cock-sure  that  the 
correct  turning  is  the  second  on  the  right,  and 
nothing  will  persuade  him  that  it  is  the  third. 
He  is  positive  he  can  get  across  the  road  in 

2I5 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

time,  and  will  not  be  convinced  until  he  sees 
the  cart  smashed  up.  Then  he  is  very  apolo- 
getic, it  is  true.  But  of  what  use  is  that  ?  As 
he  is  usually  the  size  and  strength  of  a  young 
bull,  and  his  human  companion  is  generally  a 
weak-kneed  old  man  or  woman  or  a  small  child, 
he  has  his  way.  The  greatest  punishment  his 
proprietor  can  inflict  upon  him  is  to  leave  him 
at  home,  and  take  the  cart  out  alone.  But  your 
German  is  too  kind-hearted  to  do  this  often. 

That  he  is  harnessed  to  the  cart  for  anybody's 
pleasure  but  his  own  it  is  impossible  to  believe ; 
and  I  am  confident  that  the  German  peasant 
plans  the  tiny  harness  and  fashions  the  little 
cart  purely  with  the  hope  of  gratifying  his  dog. 
In  other  countries  —  in  Belgium,  Holland,  and 
France  —  I  have  seen  these  draught  dogs  ill- 
treated  and  over-worked  ;  but  in  Germany,  never. 
Germans  abuse  animals  shockingly.  I  have  seen 
a  German  stand  in  front  of  his  horse  and  call  it 
every  name  he  could  lay  his  tongue  to.  But  the 
horse,  like  the  husband  of  King  Alfred's  hostess, 
was  evidently  used  to  it,  and  did  not  mind.  I 
have  seen  a  German,  weary  with  abusing  his 
horse,  call  to  his  wife  to  come  out  and  assist  him. 
When  she  came  he  told  her  what  the  horse  had 
done.  Maybe,  carried  away  by  his  passion,  he 
exaggerated,  making  the  animal  out  worse  than 
it  really  was.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  recital 
roused  the  woman's  temper  to  almost  equal  heat 

216 


U^  ay  s   of  the    German   Dog 

with  his  own  and,  standing  one  each  side  of  the 
poor  beast,  they  both  abused  it.  They  abused 
its  dead  mother,  they  insulted  its  father;  they 
made  cutting  remarks  about  its  personal  appear- 
ance, its  intelligence,  its  moral  sense,  its  general 
ability  as  a  horse.  The  animal  bore  the  torrent 
with  exemplary  patience  for  a  while  ;  then  it  did 
the  best  thing  possible  to  do  under  the  circum- 
stances. Without  losing  its  own  temper,  without 
replying  a  word,  it  moved  quietly  away.  The 
lady  returned  to  her  washing,  and  the  man  fol- 
lowed it  up  the  street,  still  abusing  it. 

A  kinder-hearted  people  than  the  Germans 
there  is  no  need  for.  Cruelty  to  animal  or  child 
is  a  thing  almost  unknown  in  the  land.  The 
whip  with  them  is  a  musical  instrument ;  its 
crack  is  heard  from  morning  to  night,  but  a 
coachman  that  in  the  streets  of  Dresden  I  once 
saw  use  one  was  very  nearly  lynched  by  the 
indignant  crowd.  Germany  is  the  only  country 
in  Europe  where  the  traveller  can  settle  himself 
comfortably  in  his  hired  carriage,  confident  that 
his  gentle,  willing  friend  between  the  shafts  will 
be  neither  over-worked  nor  cruelly  treated. 


217 


XL  — LOST  IN  THE  BLACK 
FOREST 

THERE  was  one   night  when,  tired 
out  and  far  from  town  or  village,  we 
slept  in  a  Black    Forest  farmhouse. 
The   great   charm    about    the   Black 
Forest  house  is  its  sociability.     The 
cows  are  in  the  next  room,  the  horses  are  up- 
stairs, the  geese  and  ducks  are  in  the  kitchen, 
while  the  pigs,   the  children,   and  the    chickens 
live  all  over  the  place. 

You  are  dressing  when  you  hear  a  grunt  be- 
hind you. 

"  Good  morning.  Don't  happen  to  have  any 
potato  peelings  in  here?  No,  I  see  you  haven't; 
good-by." 

Next  there  is  a  cackle,  and  you  see  the  neck 
of  an  old  hen  stretched  around  the  corner. 

"  Fine  morning,  is  n't  it  ?  You  don't  mind 
my  bringing  this  worm  of  mine  in  here,  do  you  ? 
It  is  so  difficult  in  this  house  to  find  a  room 
where  one  can  enjoy  one's  food  with  any  quiet- 
ness. From  a  chicken  I  have  always  been  a 

slow  eater,   and  when   a  dozen— There,   I 

thought    they  would  n't  leave  me  alone.     Now 
they  '11  all  want  a  bit.     You  don't  mind  my  get- 

218 


Lost  in   the   Black   Forest 

ting  on  the  bed,  do  you?     Perhaps  here   they 
won't  notice  me." 


"You  are  dressing  when  you  bear  a  grunt" 

While  you  are  dressing,  various  shock  heads 
peer  in  at  the  door;  they  evidently  regard  the 
room  as  a  temporary  menagerie.  You  cannot 

219 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    W ~  h  eels 

tell  whether  the  heads  belong  to  boys  or  girls ; 
you  can  only  hope  they  are  all  male.  It  is  of 
no  use  to  shut  the  door,  because  there  is  nothing 
to  fasten  it  by,  and  the  moment  you  are  gone 
they  push  it  open  again.  You  breakfast  as  the 
Prodigal  Son  is  generally  represented  feeding ; 
a  pig  or  two  drops  in  to  keep  you  company  ;  a 
party  of  elderly  geese  criticise  you  from  the  door; 
you  gather  from  their  whispers  added  to  their 
shocked  expression  that  they  are  talking  scandal 
about  you.  Maybe  a  cow  will  condescend  to 
give  a  glance  in. 

This  Noah's  Ark  arrangement  it  is,  I  suppose, 
that  gives  to  the  Black  Forest  home  its  distinctive 
scent.  It  is  not  a  scent  you  can  liken  to  any 
one  thing.  It  is  as  if  you  took  roses  and  Lim- 
burger  cheese,  and  hair  oil,  some  heather  and 
onions,  peaches  and  soapsuds,  together  with  a 
dash  of  sea  air  and  a  corpse,  and  mixed  them  up 
together.  You  cannot  define  any  particular  odour, 
but  you  feel  they  are  all  there;  all  the  odours  that 
the  world  has  yet  discovered.  People  who  live 
in  these  houses  are  fond  of  this  mixture.  They 
do  not  open  the  window  and  lose  any  of  it ;  they 
keep  it  carefully  bottled  up.  If  you  want  any 
other  scent  you  can  go  outside  and  smell  the 
wood  violets  and  the  pines ;  inside,  there  is  the 
house ;  and  after  a  while,  I  am  told,  you  get  to 
miss  it,  and  are  unable  to  go  to  sleep  in  any 
other  atmosphere. 


220 


Lost  in   the  Black   Forest 

We  had  a  long  walk  before  us  the  next  day,  and 
it  was  our  desire,  therefore,  to  get  up  early,  even 
so  early  as  six  o'clock,  if  that  could  be  managed 
without  disturbing  the  whole  household.  We 
put  it  to  our  hostess  whether  she  thought  this 
could  be  done.  She  said  she  thought  it  could. 
She  might  not  be  about  herself  at  that  time  ;  it 
was  her  morning  for  going  into  the  town,  some 
eight  miles  off,  and  she  rarely  got  back  much 
before  seven.  But  possibly  her  husband  or  one 
of  the  boys  would  be  returning  home  to  lunch 
about  that  hour.  Anyhow,  somebody  should 
be  sent  back  to  wake  us  and  get  us  our  break- 
fast. 

As  it  turned  out,  we  did  not  need  any  waking. 
We  got  up  at  four,  all  by  ourselves.  We  got 
up  at  four  in  order  to  get  away  from  the  noise 
and  the  din  that  was  making  our  heads  ache. 
What  time  the  Black  Forest  peasant  rises  in  the 
summer  time  I  am  unable  to  say ;  to  us  they 
appeared  to  be  getting  up  all  night.  And  the 
first  thing  the  Black  Forester  does  when  he  gets 
up  is  to  put  on  a  pair  of  stout  boots  with  wooden 
soles  and  take  a  constitutional  around  the  house. 
Until  he  has  been  three  times  up  and  down  the 
stairs  he  does  not  feel  he  is  up.  Once  fully 
awake  himself,  the  next  thing  he  does  is  to  go 
upstairs  to  the  stables  and  wake  up  a  horse. 
(The  Black  Forest  house  being  built  generally 
on  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  the  ground  floor  is 


221 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

at  the  top  and  the  hayloft  at  the  bottom.)  Then 
the  horse,  it  would  seem,  must  also  have  its  con- 
stitutional around  the  house,  and  this  seen  to,  the 
man  goes  downstairs  into  the  kitchen  and  begins 
to  chop  wood ;  and  when  he  has  chopped  suffi- 
cient wood  he  feels  pleased  with  himself  and 
begins  to  sing.  All  things  considered,  we  came 
to  the  conclusion  we  could  not  do  better  than 
follow  the  excellent  example  set  us. 

We  had  a  frugal  breakfast  at  half-past  four 
and  started  away  at  five.  Our  road  lay  over  a 
mountain,  and  from  inquiries  made  in  the  village 
it  appeared  to  be  one  of  those  roads  you  cannot 
possibly  miss.  I  suppose  everybody  knows  this 
sort  of  road.  Generally  it  leads  you  back  to 
where  you  started  from  ;  and  when  it  does  n't 
you  wish  it  did,  so  that  at  all  events  you  might 
know  where  you  were.  I  foresaw  evil  from  the 
very  first,  and  before  we  had  accomplished  a 
couple  of  miles  we  came  up  with  it.  The  road 
divided  into  three.  A  worm-eaten  signpost  in- 
dicated that  the  path  to  the  left  led  to  a  place 
that  we  had  never  heard  of — that  was  on  no 
map.  Its  other  arm,  pointing  out  the  direction 
of  the  middle  road,  had  disappeared.  The  road 
to  the  right,  so  we  all  agreed,  clearly  led  back 
again  to  the  village. 

"  The  old  man  said  distinctly,"  so  Harris  re- 
minded us,  "  cKeep  straight  on  around  the  hill ! '  " 

"  Which    hill  ? "     George    asked    pertinently. 

222 


Lost  in  the  Black   Forest 

We  were  confronted  by  about  half  a  dozen,  some 
of  them  big  and  some  of  them  little. 

"  He  told  us,"  continued  Harris,  "  that  we 
should  come  to  a  wood." 

"  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  him,"  commented 
George,  "  whichever  road  we  take."  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  a  dense  wood  covered  every  hill. 

"And  he  said,"  murmured  Harris,  "that  we 
should  reach  the  top  in  about  an  hour  and  a 
half." 

"  There,"  said  George,  "  I  begin  to  disbelieve 
him." 

"  Well,  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  asked  Harris. 

Now,  I  happen  to  possess  the  bump  of  locality. 
It  is  not  a  virtue ;  I  make  no  boast  of  it.  It  is 
merely  an  animal  instinct  that  I  cannot  help. 
That  things  occasionally  get  in  my  way  —  moun- 
tains, precipices,  rivers,  and  such  like  obstructions 
—  is  no  fault  of  mine.  My  instinct  is  correct 
enough ;  it  is  the  earth  that  is  wrong.  I  led 
them  by  the  middle  road.  That  the  middle 
road  had  not  character  enough  to  continue  for 
any  quarter  .of  a  mile  in  the  same  direction,  that 
after  three  miles  up  and  down  hill  it  ended  ab- 
ruptly in  a  wasp's  nest,  was  not  a  thing  that 
should  have  been  laid  to  my  door.  If  the  mid- 
dle road  had  gone  in  the  direction  it  ought  to 
have  done  it  would  have  taken  us  to  where  we 
wanted  to  go ;  of  that  I  am  convinced.  Even 
as  it  was  J  would  have  continued  to  use  this  gift 

223 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    JFb  eels 

of  mine  to  discover  a  fresh  way  had  a  proper 
spirit  been  displayed  toward  me.  But  I  am  not 
an  angel ;  I  admit  this  frankly ;  and  I  decline  to 
exert  myself  for  the  ungrateful  and  the  ribald. 
Therefore  it  was  that  I  washed  my  hands  of  the 
affair  and  Harris  entered  upon  the  vacancy. 

"  Well,"  said  Harris,  "  I  suppose  you  are 
satisfied  with  what  you  have  done  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  satisfied,"  I  replied  from  the  heap 
of  stones  where  I  was  sitting.  "  So  far  I  have 
brought  you  with  safety.  For  all  you  know,  you 
may  be  just  where  you  want  to  be." 

"  Do  not  misunderstand  us,"  said  Harris. 
"  Both  George  and  myself  feel  that  without  your 
assistance  we  should  never  be  where  we  now  are. 
For  that  we  give  you  every  credit.  But  instinct 
is  liable  to  err.  What  I  propose  to  do  is  to  sub- 
stitute for  it  Science,  which  is  exact." 

"  Don't  you  think,"  said  George,  cc  that  if  we 
made  our  way  back  to  the  village  and  hired  a  boy 
for  a  mark  to  guide  us  it  would  save  time  in  the 
end?" 

"  It  would  be  wasting  hours,"  replied  Harris 
with  decision.  "You  leave  this  to  me."  He 
took  out  his  watch  and  began  turning  himself 
round  and  round. 

"It's  as  simple  as  A  B  C,"  he  continued. 
"  You  point  the  short  hand  at  the  sun  ;  then  you 
bisect  the  segment  between  the  short  hand  and 
the  twelve  ;  and  thus  you  get  the  north." 

224 


"  Began  turning  himself  round  and  round" 


Lost  in   the  Black   Forest 

He  worried  up  and  down  for  a  while,  then  he 
fixed  it. 

"  Now  I  've  got  it,"  he  said ;  "  that 's  the 
north.  Now  give  me  the  map." 

We  handed  it  to  him  and  he  examined  it. 

"  Todtmoos,  from  here,"  he  said,  "  is  south  by 
southwest." 

"  How  do  you  mean  c  from  here '  ?  "  asked 
George. 

"  Why,  from  here,  where  we  are,"  returned 
Harris. 

"  But  where  are  we  ?  "  said  George. 

This  worried  Harris  for  a  time. 

"  It  does  n't  matter  where  we  are,"  he  said  at 
length  ;  "  wherever  we  are,  Todtmoos  is  south  by 
southwest.  Come  on,  we  are  only  wasting  time." 

"  I  don't  quite  see  how  you  make  it  out,"  said 
George,  as  he  arose  and  shouldered  his  knapsack  ; 
"  but  I  suppose  it  does  n't  matter.  We  are  out 
for  our  health." 

"We  shall  be  all  right,"  said  Harris  with 
cheery  confidence.  "  We  shall  be  in  at  Todt- 
moos before  ten,  don't  you  worry.  And  at 
Todtmoos  we  will  have  something  to  eat." 

He  said  that  he  himself  fancied  a  beefsteak, 
followed  by  an  omelette.  George  said  that  per- 
sonally he  intended  to  keep  his  mind  off  the 
subject  until  he  saw  Todtmoos. 

We  walked  for  half  an  hour,  then,  emerging 
upon  an  opening,  we  saw  below  us  about  two 
15  225 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

miles  away  the  village  through  which  we  had 
passed  that  morning.  It  had  a  quaint  church 
with  an  outside  staircase  ;  a  somewhat  unusual 
arrangement. 

The  sight  of  it  made  me  sad.  We  had  been 
walking  hard  for  three  hours  and  a  half,  and  had 
accomplished,  apparently,  about  four  miles.  But 
Harris  was  delighted. 

"  Now,  at  last,"  said  Harris,  "  we  know  where 
we  are." 

"  I  thought  you  said  it  did  n't  matter,"  George 
reminded  him. 

£C  No  more  it  does,  practically,"  replied  Harris, 
"  but  it  is  just  as  well  to  be  certain.  Now  I  feel 
more  confidence  in  myself." 

"  I  'm  not  so  sure  about  that  being  an  advan- 
tage," murmured  George.  But  I  do  not  think 
Harris  heard  him. 

"We  are  now,"  continued  Harris,  "east  of  the 
sun,  and  Todtmoos  is  southwest  of  where  we  are. 
So  that  if " 

He  broke  off.  "By  the  by,"  he  said,  "  do  you 
remember  whether  I  said  the  bisecting  line  of  that 
segment  pointed  to  the  north  or  to  the  south  ?  " 

"You  said  it  pointed  to  the  north,"  replied 
George. 

"  Are  you  positive  ?  "  persisted  Harris. 

"  Positive,"  answered  George  ;  "  but  don't  let 
that  influence  your  calculations.  In  all  probabil- 
ity you  were  wrong." 

226 


Lost  in  the  Black   Forest 

Harris  thought  for  a  while ;  then  his  brow 
cleared. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said;  "of  course  it's 
the  north.  It  must  be  the  north.  How  could  it 
be  the  south  ?  Now  we  must  make  for  the  west. 
Come  on." 

"  I  am  quite  willing  to  make  for  the  west,"  said 
George ;  "  any  point  of  the  compass  is  the  same 
to  me.  I  only  wish  to  remark  that  at  the  present 
moment  we  are  going  dead  east." 

"No,  we  are  not,"  returned  Harris;  "we  are 
going  west." 

"  We  are  going  east,  I  tell  you,"  said  George. 

"  I  wish  you  would  n't  keep  saying  that,"  said 
Harris  ;  "  you  confuse  me." 

"  I  don't  mind  if  I  do,"  returned  George  ;  "  I 
would  rather  do  that  than  go  wrong.  I  tell  you 
we  are  going  dead  east." 

"  What  nonsense  !  "  retorted  Harris.  "  There's 
the  sun." 

"  I  can  see  the  sun,"  answered  George,  "  quite 
distinctly.  It  may  be  where  it  ought  to  be  ac- 
cording to  you  and  science,  or  it  may  not.  All  I 
know  is,  that  when  we  were  down  in  the  village 
that  particular  hill  with  that  particular  lump  of 
rock  upon  it  was  due  north  of  us.  At  the  pres- 
ent moment  we  are  facing  due  east." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  Harris  ;  "  I  forgot 
for  a  moment  that  we  had  turned  around." 

"  I  should  get  into  the  habit  of  making  a  note 
227 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    ffih  eels 

of  it  if  I  were  you/'  grumbled  George  ;  "  it 's  a 
manoeuvre  that  will  probably  occur  again  more 
than  once." 

We  faced  about  and  walked  in  the  other  direc- 
tion. At  the  end  of  forty  minutes'  climbing  we 
again  emerged  upon  an  opening,  and  again  the 
village  lay  just  under  our  feet.  On  this  occasion 
it  was  south  of  us. 

"  This  is  very  extraordinary,"  said  Harris. 

"  I  see  nothing  remarkable  about  it,"  said 
George.  "If  you  walk  steadily  around  a  village 
it  is  only  natural  that  now  and  then  you  get  a 
glimpse  of  it.  As  for  myself,  I  am  glad  to  see 
it.  It  proves  to  me  that  we  are  not  utterly 
lost." 

"  It  ought  to  be  the  other  side  of  us,"  said 
Harris. 

"  It  will  be  in  another  hour  or  so,"  said  George, 
"  if  we  keep  on." 

I  said  little  myself;  I  was  vexed  with  both  of 
them  ;  but  I  was  glad  to  notice  George  evidently 
growing  cross  with  Harris.  It  was  absurd  of 
Harris  to  fancy  he  could  find  the  way  by  the  sun. 

"  I  wish  I  knew,"  said  Harris  thoughtfully, 
"  for  certain  whether  that  bisecting  line  points  to 
the  north  or  to  the  south." 

"  I  should  make  up  my  mind  about  it,"  said 
George  ;  "  it 's  an  important  point." 

"It's  impossible  it  can  be  the  north,"  said 
Harris,  "  and  I  '11  tell  you  why." 

228 


Lost  in  the  Black   Forest 

"  You  need  n't  trouble,"  said  George  ;  "  I  am 
quite  prepared  to  believe  it  is  n't." 


" '  This  is  the  best  view  we  've  had  of  it  as  yet ' ' 

"You  said  just  now  it  was,"  said  Harris  re- 
proachfully. 

"  I  said  nothing  of  the  sort,"  retorted  George  ; 
"  I  said  you  said  it  was ;  a  very  different  thing. 

229 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

If  you   think  it  is  n't,   let 's  go  the  other  way. 
It'll  be  a  change,  at  all  events." 

So  Harris  worked  things  out  according  to  the 
contrary  calculation,  and  again  we  plunged  into 
the  wood;  and  again  after  half  an  hour's  stiff 
climbing  we  came  in  view  of  that  same  village. 
True,  we  were  a  little  higher,  and  this  time  it  lay 
between  us  and  the  sun. 

"  I  think,"  said  George,  as  he  stood  looking 
down  at  it,  "  this  is  the  best  view  we  Ve  had  of  it 
as  yet.  There  is  only  one  other  point  from  which 
we  can  see  it.  After  that,  I  propose  we  go  down 
into  it  and  get  some  rest." 

"  I  don't  believe  it 's  the  same  village,"  said 
Harris;  "it  can't  be." 

"There's  no  mistaking  that  church,"  said 
George.  "  But  maybe  it  is  a  case  on  all  fours 
with  that  Prague  statue.  Possibly  the  authorities 
hereabouts  have  had  made  some  life-sized  models 
of  that  village  and  have  stuck  them  about  the 
Forest  to  see  where  the  thing  would  look  best. 
Anyhow,  which  way  do  we  go  now  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Harris,  "and  I  don't 
care.  I  have  done  my  best;  you  've  done  noth- 
ing but  grumble  and  confuse  me." 

"I  may  have  been  critical,"  admitted  George, 
"but  look  at  the  thing  from  my  point  of  view. 
One  of  you  says  he  's  got  an  instinct,  and  leads 
me  to  a  wasp's  nest  in  the  middle  of  a 
wood." 

230 


Lost  in   the  Black   Forest 

"  I  can't  help  wasps  building  in  a  wood/'  I 
replied. 

"  I  don't  say  you  can,"  answered  George.  "  I 
am  not  arguing ;  I  am  merely  stating  incontro- 
vertible facts.  The  other  one,  who  leads  me  up 
and  down  hill  for  hours  on  scientific  principles, 
does  n't  know  the  north  from  the  south,  and  is 
never  quite  sure  whether  he's  turned  around  or 
whether  he  hasn't.  Personally,  I  profess  to  no 
instincts  beyond  the  ordinary,  nor  am  I  a  scientist. 
But  two  fields  off  I  can  see  a  man.  I  am  going 
to  offer  him  the  worth  of  the  hay  he  is  cutting, 
which  I  estimate  at  one  mark  fifty  pfennig,  to 
leave  his  work  and  lead  me  to  within  sight  of 
Todtmoos.  If  you  two  fellows  like  to  follow, 
you  can.  If  not,  you  can  start  another  system 
and  work  it  out  by  yourselves." 

George's  plan  lacked  both  originality  and 
aplomb,  but  at  the  moment  it  appealed  to  us. 
Fortunately  we  had  worked  around  to  a  very 
short  distance  away  from  the  spot  where  we  had 
originally  gone  wrong,  with  the  result  that,  aided 
by  the  gentleman  of  the  scythe,  we  recovered  the 
road  and  reached  Todtmoos  four  hours  later  than 
we  had  calculated  to  reach  it,  with  an  appetite 
that  took  forty-five  minutes'  steady  work  in 
silence  to  abate. 

From  Todtmoos  we  had  intended  to  walk 
down  to  the  Rhine,  but  having  regard  to  our 
extra  exertions  of  the  morning  we  decided  to 

231 


Th  r  e  e    Me  n   o  n    Wh  eel 


promenade  in  a  carriage,  as  the  French  would 
say,  and  for  this  purpose  hired  a  picturesque- 
looking  vehicle,  drawn  by  a  horse  that  I  should 
have  called  barrel-bodied  but  for  contrast  with 
his  driver,  in  comparison  with  whom  he  was 
angular.  In  Germany  every  vehicle  is  arranged 
for  a  pair  of  horses,  but  drawn  generally  by  one. 
This  gives  to  the  equipage  a  lop-sided  appear- 
ance, according  to  our  notions;  but  it  is  held 
here  to  indicate  style.  The  idea  to  be  conveyed 
is  that  you  usually  drive  a  pair  of  horses,  but  that 
for  the  moment  you  have  mislaid  the  other  one. 
The  German  driver  is  not  what  we  should  call  a 
first-class  whip.  He  is  at  his  best  when  he  is 
asleep.  Then,  at  all  events,  he  is  harmless;  and 
the  horse  being,  generally  speaking,  intelligent 
and  experienced,  progress  under  these  conditions 
is  comparatively  safe.  If  in  Germany  they  could 
only  train  the  horse  to  collect  the  money  at  the 
end  of  the  journey  there  would  be  no  need  for  a 
coachman  at  all.  This  would  be  a  distinct  relief 
to  the  passenger,  for  when  the  German  coachman 
is  awake  and  not  cracking  his  whip  he  is  generally 
occupied  in  getting  himself  into  trouble  or  out 
of  it.  He  is  better  at  the  former.  Once  I 
recollect  driving  down  a  steep  Black  Forest  hill 
with  a  couple  of  ladies.  It  was  one  of  those 
roads  winding  corkscrew-wise  down  the  slope. 
The  hill  arose  at  an  angle  of  seventy-five  on  the 
off  side,  and  fell  away  at  an  angle  of  seventy-five 

232 


Lost  in   the  Black   Forest 

on  the  near  side.  We  were  proceeding  very 
comfortably,  the  driver,  we  were  happy  to  notice, 
with  his  eyes  shut,  when  suddenly  something  — 
a  bad  dream  or  indigestion  —  awoke  him.  He 
seized  the  reins,  and  by  an  adroit  movement 
pulled  the  near  horse  over  the  side,  where  it 
clung,  half  supported  by  the  traces.  Our  driver 
did  not  appear  in  the  least  annoyed  or  surprised; 
both  horses,  I  also  noticed,  seemed  equally  used 
to  the  situation.  We  got  out  and  he  got  down. 
He  took  from  under  the  seat  a  huge  clasp-knife, 
evidently  kept  there  for  the  purpose,  and  deftly 
cut  the  traces.  The  horse  thus  released  rolled 
over  and  over  until  he  struck  the  road  again, 
some  fifty  feet  below.  There  he  regained  his 
footing  and  stood  waiting  for  us.  We  reentered 
the  carriage  and  descended  with  the  single  horse 
until  we  came  to  him.  There,  with  the  help  of 
some  bits  of  string,  our  driver  harnessed  him 
again  and  we  continued  on  our  way.  What  im- 
pressed me  was  the  evident  accustomedness  of 
both  driver  and  horses  to  this  method  of  pro- 
ceeding down  a  hill.  Evidently  to  them  it 
appeared  a  short  and  convenient  cut.  I  should 
not  have  been  surprised  had  the  man  suggested 
our  strapping  ourselves  in,  and  then  rolling  over 
and  over,  carriage  and  all,  to  the  bottom. 

Another  peculiarity  of  the  German  coachman 
is  that  he  never  attempts  to  pull  in  or  to  pull 
up.  He  regulates  his  rate  of  speed  not  by  the 

233 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

pace  of  the  horse,  but  by  manipulation  of  the 
brake.  For  eight  miles  an  hour  he  puts  it  on 
slightly,  so  that  it  only  scrapes  the  wheel,  pro- 
ducing a  continuous  sound  as  of  the  sharpening 
of  a  saw  ;  for  four  miles  an  hour  he  screws  it 
down  harder,  and  you  travel  to  an  accompani- 
ment of  groans  and  shrieks,  suggestive  of  a  sym- 
phony of  dying  pigs.  When  he  desires  to  come 
to  a  full  stop  he  puts  it  on  to  its  full.  If 
his  brake  be  a  good  one,  he  calculates  he  can 
stop  his  carriage,  unless  the  horse  be  an  extra 
powerful  animal,  in  less  than  twice  its  own 
length. 

At  Waldshut,  one  of  those  little  sixteenth-cen- 
tury towns  through  which  the  Rhine  flows  during 
its  earlier  course,  we  came  across  that  exceedingly 
common  object  of  the  Continent :  the  travelling 
Briton  grieved  and  surprised  at  the  unacquaint- 
ance  of  the  foreigner  with  the  subtleties  of  the 
English  language.  When  we  entered  the  station 
he  was,  in  very  fair  English,  though  with  a  slight 
Somersetshire  accent,  explaining  to  a  porter  for 
the  tenth  time,  as  he  informed  us,  the  simple 
fact  that  though  he  himself  had  a  ticket  for 
Donaueschingen,  and  wanted  to  go  to  Donaue- 
schingen  to  see  the  source  of  the  Danube,  which 
is  not  there,  though  they  tell  you  it  is,  he  wished 
his  bicycle  to  be  sent  on  to  Engen  and  his  bag 
to  Constance,  there  to  await  his  arrival.  He  was 
hot  and  angry  with  the  effort  of  the  thing.  The 

234 


Lost  in  the  Black   Forest 

. 

porter  was  a  young  man  in  years,  but  at  the 
moment  looked  old  and  miserable.  I  offered 
my  services.  I  wish  now  I  had  not,  though  not 
so  fervently,  I  expect,  as  he  came  subsequently  to 
wish  this.  All  three  routes,  so  the  porter  ex- 
plained to  us,  were  complicated,  necessitating 
changing  and  rechanging.  There  was  not  much 
time  for  calm  elucidation,  as  our  own  train  was 
starting  in  a  few  minutes.  The  man  himself  was 
voluble  —  always  a  mistake  when  anything  en- 
tangled has  to  be  made  clear;  while  the  porter 
was  only  too  eager  to  get  the  job  done  with 
and  so  breathe  again.  It  dawned  upon  me  ten 
minutes  later,  when  thinking  the  matter  over  in 
the  train,  that  though  I  had  agreed  with  the 
porter  that  it  would  be  best  for  the  bicycle  to  go 
by  way  of  Immendingen,  and  had  agreed  to  his 
booking  it  to  Immendingen,  I  had  neglected  to 
give  instructions  for  its  departure  from  Immen- 
dingen. Were  I  of  a  despondent  temperament 
I  should  be  worrying  myself  at  the  present 
moment  with  the  reflection  that  in  all  probability 
that  bicycle  is  still  at  Immendingen.  Possibly 
the  porter  corrected  my  omission  on  his  own 
account,  or  some  simple  miracle  may  have  hap- 
pened to  restore  that  bicycle  to  its  owner  some 
time  before  the  end  of  his  tour.  The  bag  we 
sent  to  Radolfzell ;  but  here  I  console  myself 
with  the  recollection  that  it  was  labelled  Con- 
stance ;  and  no  doubt  the  railway  authorities, 

235 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    fFb  eels 

finding  it  unclaimed  at  Rodolfzell,  forwarded  it 
on  to  Constance. 

But  all  this  is  apart  from  the  moral  I  wished 
to  draw  from  the  incident.  The  true  inwardness 
of  the  situation  lay  in  the  indignation  of  this 
Britisher  at  finding  a  German  railway  porter 
unable  to  comprehend  English.  The  moment 
we  spoke  to  him  he  expressed  this  indignation. 

"  Thank  you  very  much  indeed,"  he  said ; 
"it's  simple  enough.  I  want  to  go  to  Donaue- 
schingen  myself  by  train ;  from  Donaueschingen 
I  am  going  to  walk  to  Geisengen;  from  Geisen- 
gen  I  am  going  to  take  the  train  to  Engen,  and 
from  Engen  I  am  going  to  bicycle  to  Constance. 
But  I  don't  want  to  take  my  bag  with  me  ;  I 
want  to  find  it  at  Constance  when  I  get  there. 
I  have  been  trying  to  explain  the  thing  to  this 
fool  for  the  last  ten  minutes ;  but  I  can't  get  it 
into  him." 

"  It  is  very  disgraceful,"  I  agreed.  "  Some  of 
these  German  workmen  know  hardly  any  lan- 
guage but  their  own." 

"  I  have  gone  over  it  with  him,"  continued 
the  man,  "  on  the  time  table,  and  explained  it 
by  pantomime.  Even  then  I  could  not  knock 
it  into  him." 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  you,"  I  again  remarked; 
"  you  would  think  the  thing  explained  itself." 

Harris  was  angry  with  the  man  ;  he  wished  to 
reprove  him  for  his  folly  in  journeying  through 

236 


Lost  in   the   Black   Forest 

the  outlying  portions  of  a  foreign  clime,  and 
seeking  in  such  to  accomplish  complicated  rail- 
way tricks  without  knowing  a  word  of  the  lan- 
guage of  the  country.  But  I  pointed  out  to  him 
the  great  and  good  work  at  which  the  man  was 
unconsciously  assisting. 

Shakespeare  and  Milton  may  have  done  their 
little  best  to  spread  acquaintance  with  the  Eng- 
lish tongue  among  the  less  favoured  inhabitants 
of  Europe.  Newton  and  Darwin  may  have  ren- 
dered their  language  a  necessity  among  educated 
and  thoughtful  foreigners.  Dickens  and  Ouida 
(for  your  folk  who  imagine  that  the  literary 
world  is  bounded  by  the  prejudices  of  New  Grub 
Street  would  be  surprised  and  grieved  at  the 
position  occupied  abroad  by  this  at-home-sneered- 
at  Lady)  may  have  helped  still  further  to  popu- 
larize it.  But  the  man  who  has  spread  the 
knowledge  of  English  from  Cape  St.  Vincent  to 
the  Ural  Mountains  is  the  Englishman  who, 
unable  or  unwilling  to  learn  a  single  word  of  any 
language  but  his  own,  travels  purse  in  hand  into 
every  corner  of  the  Continent.  One  may  be 
shocked  at  his  ignorance,  annoyed  at  his  stupidity, 
angry  at  his  presumption,  but  the  practical  fact 
remains :  he  it  is  that  is  anglicising  Europe. 
For  him  the  Swiss  peasant  tramps  through  the 
snow  on  winter  evenings  to  attend  the  English 
class  open  in  every  village.  For  him  the  coach- 
man and  the  guard,  the  chambermaid  and  the 

237 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    W^h  eels 

laundress,  pore  over  their  English  grammars  and 
colloquial  phrase  books.  For  him  the  foreign 
shopkeeper  and  merchant  send  their  sons  and 
daughters  in  their  thousands  to  study  in  every 
English  town.  For  him  it  is  that  every  foreign 
hotel  and  restaurant  keeper  adds  to  his  adver- 
tisement :  "  Only  those  with  fair  knowledge  of 
English  need  apply." 

Did  the  English-speaking  races  make  it  their 
rule  to  speak  anything  else  than  English  the  mar- 
vellous progress  of  the  English  tongue  through- 
out the  world  would  stop.  The  English-speaking 
man  stands  amid  the  strangers  and  jingles  his 
gold.  "  Here,"  he  cries,  "  is  payment  for  all 
such  as  can  speak  English."  He  it  is  who  is 
the  great  educator.  Theoretically,  we  may  scold 
him ;  practically,  we  should  take  our  hats  off  to 
him.  He  is  the  missionary  of  the  English 
tongue. 


238 


XII.— THE   SLAVE   OF   THE 
BRICK 

A  THING  that  vexes  much  the  high- 
class  Anglo-Saxon  soul  is  the  earthly 
instinct  prompting   the   German    to 
fix  a  restaurant  at  the  goal  of  every 
excursion.     On    mountain    summit, 
in   fairy  glen,    on    lonely   pass,    by  waterfall    or 
winding  stream,  stands  ever  the  busy  Wirtschaft. 
How  can  one  rhapsodize  over  a  view  when  sur- 
rounded by  beer-stained  tables  ?     How  lose  one's 
self  in  historical  reverie  amid  the  odour  of  roast 
veal  and  spinach? 

One    day,    on    elevating    thoughts    intent,  we 
climbed  through  tangled  woods. 

"  And  at  the  top,"  said  Harris  bitterly,  as  we 
paused  to  breathe  a  space  and  pull  our  belts  a 
hole  tighter,  "  there  will  be  a  gaudy  restaurant, 
where  people  will  be  guzzling  beefsteaks  and 
plum  tarts,  and  drinking  white  wine." 
"  Do  you  really  think  so  ? "  said  George. 
"  Sure  to  be,"  answered  Harris ;  "  you  know 
their  way.  Not  one  grove  will  they  consent  to 
dedicate  to  solitude  and  contemplation.  Not 
one  height  will  they  leave  to  the  lover  of  Nature 
unpolluted  by  the  gross  and  the  material." 

239 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eel 


"  I  calculate,"  I  remarked,  "  that  we  shall  be 
there  a  little  before  one  o'clock,  provided  we 
don't  dawdle." 

"The  c  Mittagstisch  '  will  be  just  ready," 
groaned  Harris,  "  with  possibly  some  of  those 
little  blue  trout  they  catch  about  here.  In  Ger- 
many one  never  seems  able  to  get  away  from 
food  and  drink.  It  is  maddening  !  " 

We  pushed  on,  and  in  the  beauty  of  the  walk 
forgot  our  indignation.  My  estimate  proved  to 
be  correct.  At  quarter  to  one,  said  Harris,  who 
was  leading  : 

"  Here  we  are  ;   I  can  see  the  summit." 

"  Any  sign  of  that  restaurant  ?  "asked  George. 

"  I  don't  notice  it,"  replied  Harris,  "but  it  's 
there,  you  may  be  sure  ;  confound  it  !  " 

Five  minutes  later  we  stood  upon  the  top. 
We  looked  north,  south,  east  and  west  ;  then 
we  looked  at  one  another. 

"  Grand  view,  is  n't  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Harris. 

"  Magnificent  !  "  I  agreed. 

"  Superb  !  "  remarked  George. 

"They  have  had  the  good  sense  for  once," 
added  Harris,  "  to  put  that  restaurant  out  of 
sight." 

"  They  do  seem  to  have  hidden  it,"  said 
George. 

cc  One  does  n't  mind  the  thing  so  much 
when  it  is  not  forced  under  one  's  nose,"  said 

Harris. 

240 


The   Slave  of  the  Brick 

"  Of  course,  in  its  place,"  I  observed,  "  a  res- 
taurant is  right  enough." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  where  they  have  put 
it,"  said  George. 

"  Suppose  we  look  for  it,"  said  Harris,  with 
inspiration. 

It  seemed  a  good  suggestion.  I  felt  curious 
myself.  We  agreed  to  explore  in  different  di- 
rections, returning  to  the  summit  to  report 
progress.  In  half  an  hour  we  stood  together 
once  again.  There  was  no  need  for  words. 
The  face  of  one  and  all  of  us  announced  plainly 
that  at  last  we  had  discovered  a  recess  of  German 
nature  untarnished  by  the  sordid  suggestion  of 
food  or  drink. 

"  I  should  never  have  believed  it  possible," 
said  Harris  ;  "  would  you  ?  " 

"I  should  say,"  I  replied,  "that  this  is  the 
only  square  quarter  of  a  mile  in  the  entire  Father- 
land unprovided  with  one." 

"  And  we  three  strangers  have  struck  it,"  said 
George,  cc  without  an  effort." 

"  True,"  I  observed  ;  "  by  pure  good  fortune 
we  are  now  enabled  to  feast  our  finer  senses 
undisturbed  by  appeal  to  our  lower  nature. 
Observe  the  light  upon  those  distant  peaks;  is 
it  not  ravishing  ?  " 

"  Talking  of  Nature,"  said  George,  "  which 
should  you  say  was  the  nearest  way  down  ? " 

"  The  road  to  the  left,"   I  replied,  after  con- 

16  241 


Th  r  e  e    Me  n   o  n    Wh  eels 


suiting  the  guide-book,  "  takes  us  to  Sonnensteig 
—  where,  by  the  by,  I  observe  the  Golden  Adler 
is  well  spoken  of  —  in  about  two  hours.  The 
road  to  the  right,  though  somewhat  longer,  com- 
mands more  extensive  prospects." 

"One  prospect,"  observed  Harris,  "is  very 
much  like  another  prospect  ;  don't  you  think 
so?" 

"  Personally,"  said  George,  "  I  am  going  by 
the  left-hand  road."  And  Harris  and  I  went 
after  him. 

But  we  were  not  to  get  down  so  soon  as  we 
had  anticipated.  Storms  come  quickly  in  these 
regions,  and  before  we  had  walked  for  quarter  of 
an  hour  it  became  a  question  of  seeking  shelter 
or  living  for  the  rest  of  the  day  in  soaked  clothes. 
We  decided  on  the  former  alternative,  and 
selected  a  tree  that  under  ordinary  circumstances 
should  have  been  ample  protection.  But  a 
Black  Forest  thunderstorm  is  not  an  ordinary 
circumstance.  We  consoled  ourselves  at  first 
by  telling  each  other  that  at  such  rate  it  could 
not  last  long.  Next,  we  endeavoured  to  com- 
fort ourselves  with  the  reflection  that  if  it 
did  we  should  soon  be  too  wet  to  fear  getting 
wetter. 

"  As  it  has  turned  out,"  said  Harris,  "  I  should 
have  been  almost  glad  if  there  had  been  a  restau- 
rant up  here." 

"  I  see  no  advantage  in  being  both  wet  and 
242 


I  f-S 


Won't  you  come  inside  ?  ': 


The   Slave   of  the  Brick 

hungry,"  said  George.     "  I  shall  give  it  another 
five  minutes,  then  I  am  going  on." 

"  These  mountain  solitudes,"  I  remarked, 
"  are  very  attractive  in  fine  weather.  On  a  rainy 
day,  especially  if  you  happen  to  be  past  the  age 
when  —  " 

At  this  point  there  hailed  us  a  voice,  proceed- 
ing from  a  stout  gentleman  who  stood  some  fifty 
feet  away  from  us,  under  a  big  umbrella. 

"  Won't  you  come  inside  ? "  asked  the  stout 
gentleman. 

"Inside  where?"  I  called  back.  I  thought 
at  first  he  was  one  of  those  fools  that  will  try 
to  be  funny  when  there  is  nothing  to  be  funny 
about. 

"  Inside  the  restaurant,"  he  answered. 

We  left  our  shelter  and  made  for  him.     We 
•  wished  for  further  information  about  this  thing. 

"  I  did  call  to  you  from  the  window,"  said  the 
stout  gentleman,  as  we  drew  near  to  him,  "  but 
I  suppose  you  did  not  hear  me.  This  storm 
may  last  for  another  hour ;  you  will  get  so  wet." 
He  was  a  kindly  old  gentleman ;  he  seemed 
quite  anxious  about  us. 

I  said :  cc  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  come  out. 
We  are  not  lunatics.  We  have  not  been  stand- 
ing under  that  tree  for  the  last  half-hour  know- 
ing all  the  time  there  was  a  restaurant  within 
twenty  yards  of  us.  We  had  no  idea  we  were 
anywhere  near  a  restaurant." 

243 


Th  r  e  e  Men   on    Wh  eels 

"  I  thought  maybe  you  had  n't,"  said  the  old 
gentleman ;  "  that  is  why  I  came  out." 

It  appeared  that  all  the  people  in  the  inn  had 
been  watching  us  from  the  windows  also,  wonder- 
ing why  we  stood  there  looking  miserable.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  this  nice  old  gentleman  the  fools 
would  have  stood  watching  us,  I  suppose,  for  the 
rest  of  the  afternoon.  The  landlord  excused 
himself  by  saying  he  thought  we  looked  Eng- 
lish. It  is  no  figure  of  speech  :  on  the  Conti- 
nent they  do  sincerely  believe  that  every  English- 
man is  mad.  They  are  as  convinced  of  it  as  is 
every  English  peasant  that  Frenchmen  live  on 
frogs.  Even  when  one  makes  a  direct  personal 
effort  to  disabuse  them  of  the  impression  one  is 
not  always  successful. 

It  was  a  comfortable  little  restaurant,  where 
they  cooked  well,  while  the  Tischwein  was  really 
most  passable.  We  stopped  there  for  a  couple 
of  hours,  and  dried  ourselves,  and  fed  ourselves, 
and  talked  about  the  view ;  and,  just  before  we 
left,  an  incident  occurred  that  shows  how  much 
more  stirring  in  this  world  are  the  influences  of 
evil  as  compared  with  those  of  good. 

A  traveller  entered.  He  seemed  a  careworn 
man.  He  carried  a  brick  in  his  hand,  tied  to  a 
piece  of  rope.  He  entered  nervously  and  hur- 
riedly; closed  the  door  carefully  behind  him; 
saw  to  it  that  it  was  fastened ;  peered  out  of  the 
window  long  and  earnestly  ;  and  then,  with  a  sigh 

244 


Tb  e   Slave   of  the  Brick 

of  relief,  laid   his  brick  upon  the  bench  beside 
him  and  called  for  food  and  drink. 


"  He  carried  a  brick  in  his  hand" 

There   was    something  mysterious    about   the 
whole  affair.       One  wondered  what  he  was  go- 

245 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W h  eels 

ing  to  do  with  the  brick ;  why  he  had  closed  the 
door  so  carefully ;  why  he  had  looked  so  anx- 
iously from  the  window.  But  his  aspect  was 
too  wretched  to  invite  conversation,  and  we  fore- 
bore,  therefore,  to  ask  him  questions.  As  he  ate 
and  drank  he  grew  more  cheerful ;  sighed  less 
often.  Later,  he  stretched  his  legs,  lit  an  evil- 
smelling  cigar,  and  puffed  in  calm  contentment. 
Then  it  happened.  It  happened  too  suddenly 
for  any  detailed  conception  of  the  thing  to  be 
possible.  I  recollect  a  Fraulein  entering  the 
room  from  the  kitchen  with  a  pan  in  her  hand. 
I  saw  her  cross  to  the  outer  door.  The  next 
moment  the  whole  room  was  in  an  uproar.  One 
was  reminded  of  those  pantomime  transformation 
scenes  where  from  among  floating  clouds,  slow 
music,  waving  flowers  and  reclining  fairies  one  is 
suddenly  transported  into  the  midst  of  shouting 
policemen  tumbling  over  yelling  babies,  swells 
righting  pantaloons,  sausages  and  harlequins,  but- 
tered slides,  and  clowns.  As  the  Fraulein  of  the 
pan  touched  the  door  it  flew  open  as  though  all 
the  spirits  of  sin  had  been  pressed  against  it,  wait- 
ing. Two  pigs  and  a  chicken  rushed  into  the 
room ;  a  cat  that  had  been  sleeping  on  a  beer 
barrel'  spluttered  into  fiery  life.  The  Fraulein 
threw  her  pan  into  the  air  and  lay  down  on  the 
floor.  The  gentleman  with  the  brick  sprang  to 
his  feet,  upsetting  the  table  before  him,  with  every- 
thing upon  it. 

246 


The   Slave  of  the  Brick 

One  looked  to  see  the  cause  of  this  disaster ; 
one  discovered  it  at  once  in  the  person  of  a 
mongrel  terrier  with  pointed  ears  and  a  squirrel's 
tail.  The  landlord  rushed  out  from  another 
door,  and  attempted  to  kick  him  out  of  the 
room.  Instead,  he  kicked  one  of  the  pigs,  the 
fatter  of  the  two.  It  was  a  vigorous,  well-planted 
kick,  and  the  pig  got  the  whole  of  it :  none  of  it 
was  wasted.  One  felt  sorry  for  the  poor  animal, 
but  no  amount  of  sorrow  any  one  else  might  feel 
for  him  could  compare  with  the  sorrow  he  felt  for 
himself.  He  stopped  running  about.  He  sat 
down  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  appealed  to 
the  solar  system  generally  to  observe  this  unjust 
thing  that  had  come  upon  him.  They  must  have 
heard  his  complaint  in  the  valleys  round  about 
and  have  wondered  what  upheaval  of  Nature  was 
taking  place  among  the  hills. 

As  for  the  hen,  it  scuttled,  screaming,  every 
way  at  once.  It  was  a  marvellous  bird  ;  it  seemed 
to  be  able  to  run  up  a  straight  wall  quite  easily  ; 
and  it  and  the  cat  between  them  fetched  down 
mostly  everything  that  was  not  already  on  the 
floor.  In  less  than  forty  seconds  there  were  nine 
people  in  that  room,  all  trying  to  kick  one 
dog.  Possibly,  now  and  again,  one  or  another 
may  have  succeeded,  for  occasionally  the  dog 
would  stop  barking  in  order  to  howl.  But 
it  did  not  discourage  him.  Everything  has  to 
be  paid  for,  he  evidently  argued,  even  a  pig  and 

247 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    ff^b  eels 

chicken  hunt;  and,  on  the  whole,  the  game  was 
worth  it. 

Besides,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  observing 
that  for  every  kick  he  received  most  other  living 
things  in  the  room  got  two.  As  for  the  unfortu- 
nate pig  —  the  stationary  one,  the  one  that  still  sat 
lamenting  in  the  centre  of  the  room  —  he  must 
have  averaged  a  steady  four.  Trying  to  kick 
this  dog  was  like  playing  football  with  a  ball  that 
was  never  there  —  not  when  you  went  to  kick  it, 
but  after  you  had  started  to  kick  it,  and  had  gone 
too  far  to  stop  yourself,  so  that  the  kick  had  to 
go  on  in  any  case,  your  only  hope  being  that 
your  foot  would  find  something  or  another  solid 
to  stop  it,  and  so  save  you  from  sitting  down  on 
the  floor,  noisily  and  completely.  When  any  one 
did  kick  the  dog  it  was  by  pure  accident,  when 
they  were  not  expecting  to  kick  him,  and,  gener- 
ally speaking,  this  took  them  so  unawares  that 
after  kicking  him  they  fell  over  him.  And  every- 
body, every  half-minute,  would  be  certain  to  fall 
over  the  pig  —  the  sitting  pig,  the  one  incapable 
of  getting  out  of  anybody's  way. 

How  long  the  scrimmage  might  have  lasted 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  It  was  ended  by  the 
judgment  of  George.  For  a  while  he  had 
been  seeking  to  catch,  not  the  dog,  but  the 
remaining  pig,  the  one  still  capable  of  activity. 
Cornering  it  at  last,  he  persuaded  it  to  cease 
running  round  the  room  and,  instead,  to  take  a 

248 


The   Slave  of  the   Brick 

spin  outside.     It  shot  through  the  door  with  one 
long  wail. 


"  Seeking  to  catch,  not  the  dog,  but 
the  remaining  pig  " 


We  always  desire  the  thing  we  have  not.     One 
pig,  a  chicken,  nine    people    and  a  cat  were  as 

249 


T'b  r  e  e   Men   on    ffih  eels 

nothing  in  that  dog's  opinion,  compared  with  the 
quarry  that  was  disappearing.  Unwisely,  he 
darted  after  it,  and  George  closed  the  door  upon 
him  and  shot  the  bolt. 

Then  the  landlord  stood  up  and  surveyed  all 
the  things  that  were  lying  on  the  floor. 

"  That  's  a  playful  dog  of  yours/'  said  he  to 
the  man  who  had  come  in  with  the  brick. 

"  He  is  not  my  dog,"  replied  the  man  sullenly. 

"  Whose  dog  is  it,  then  ?  "  said  the  landlord. 

"  I  don't  know  whose  dog  it  is,"  answered  the 
man. 

"  That  won't  do  for  me,  you  know,"  said  the 
landlord,  picking  up  a  picture  of  the  German 
Emperor  and  wiping  beer  from  it  with  his  sleeve. 

"  I  know  it  won't,"  replied  the  man  ;  "  I  never 
expected  it  would.  I  'm  tired  of  telling  people 
it  is  n't  my  dog.  None  of  them  believe  me." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  go  about  with  him  for 
if  he 's  not  your  dog  ?  "  said  the  landlord. 
"  What 's  the  attraction  about  him  ?  " 

"  I  don't  go  about  with  him,"  replied  the  man  ; 
"  he  goes  about  with  me.  He  picked  me  up  this 
morning  at  ten  o'clock  and  he  won't  leave  me.  I 
thought  I  had  got  rid  of  him  when  I  came  in 
here.  I  left  him  busy  killing  a  duck  more  than 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  away.  I'll  have  to  pay  for 
that,  I  expect,  on  my  way  back." 

"  Have  you  tried  throwing  stones  at    him  ?  " 

asked  Harris. 

250 


The   Slave  of  the   Brick 

"  Have  I  tried  throwing  stones  at  him  !  "  re- 
plied the  man  contemptuously.  "  I  Ve  been 
throwing  stones  at  him  till  my  arm  aches  with 
throwing  stones ;  and  he  thinks  it's  a  game,  and 
brings  them  back  to  me.  I  Ve  been  carrying  this 
beastly  brick  about  with  me  for  over  an  hour  in 
the  hope  of  being  able  to  drown  him,  but  he 
never  comes  near  enough  for  me  to  get  hold  of 
him.  He  just  sits  six  inches  out  of  my  reach 
with  his  mouth  open  and  looks  at  me." 

"  It's  the  funniest  story  I  Ve  heard  for  a  long 
while,"  said  the  landlord. 

"  Glad  it  amuses  somebody,"  said  the  man. 

We  left  him  helping  the  landlord  to  pick  up 
the  broken  things,  and  went  our  way.  A  dozen 
yards  outside  the  door  the  faithful  animal  was 
waiting  for  his  friend.  He  looked  tired,  but 
contented.  He  was  evidently  a  dog  of  strange 
and  sudden  fancies,  and  we  feared  for  the  moment 
lest  he  might  take  a  liking  to  us.  But  he  let  us 
pass  with  indifference.  His  loyalty  to  this  unre- 
sponsive man  was  touching ;  and  we  made  no 
attempt  to  undermine  it. 

Having  completed  to  our  satisfaction  the  Black 
Forest,  we  journeyed  on  our  wheels  to  Miinster, 
whence  we  started  a  short  exploration  of  the 
Vosges  range,  where,  according  to  the  present 
German  Emperor,  humanity  stops. 

The  fruiterer  and  greengrocer  is  a  person  un- 
known in  the  Vosges.  Most  things  of  that  kind 

251 


Th  r  e  e   M  en   on    Jf^h  eels 

grow  wild,  and  are  to  be  had  for  the  picking.  It 
is  difficult  to  keep  to  any  programme  when  walk- 
ing through  the  Vosges,  the  temptation  on  a  hot 
day  to  stop  and  eat  fruit  generally  being  too  strong 
for  resistance.  Raspberries,  the  most  delicious  I 
have  ever  tasted,  wild  strawberries,  currants,  and 
gooseberries  grow  upon  the  hillsides  as  black- 
berries by  English  lanes.  The  Vosges  small  boy 
is  not  called  upon  to  rob  an  orchard ;  he  can 
make  himself  ill  without  sin.  Orchards  exist  in 
the  Vosges  Mountains  in  plenty ;  but  to  trespass 
into  one  for  the  purpose  of  stealing  fruit  would 
be  as  foolish  as  for  a  fish  to  try  and  get  into  a 
swimming  bath  without  paying.  Still,  of  course, 
mistakes  do  occur. 

One  afternoon  in  the  course  of  a  climb  we 
emerged  upon  a  plateau  where  we  lingered  per- 
haps too  long,  eating  more  fruit  than  may  have 
been  good  for  us;  it  was  so  plentiful  around  us, 
so  varied.  We  commenced  with  a  few  late  straw- 
berries, and  from  those  we  passed  to  raspberries. 
Then  Harris  found  a  green-gage  tree  with  some 
early  fruit  upon  it,  just  perfect. 

"  This  is  about  the  best  thing  we  have  struck," 
said  George ;  "  we  had  better  make  the  most 
of  this."  Which  was  good  advice,  on  the  face 
of  it. 

"  It  is  a  pity,"  said  Harris,  "  that  the  pears  are 
still  so  hard." 

He  grieved  about  this  for  a  while,  but  later  I 
252 


The   Slave  of  the   Brick 

came  across  some  remarkably  fine  yellow  plums, 
and  these  consoled  him  somewhat. 

"  I  suppose  we  are  still  a  bit  too  far  north  for 
pineapples,"  said  George.  "  I  feel  I  could  just 
enjoy  a  fresh  pineapple.  This  commonplace  fruit 
palls  upon  one  after  a  while.'* 

"  Too  much  bush  fruit  and  not  enough  tree  is 
the  fault  I  find,"  said  Harris.  "  Myself,  I  should 
have  liked  a  few  more  green-gages." 

"  Here  is  a  man  coming  up  the  hill,"  I  ob- 
served, "  who  looks  like  a  native.  Maybe  he 
will  know  where  we  can  find  some  more  green- 
gages." 

"  He  walks  well  for  an  old  chap,"  remarked 
Harris. 

He  certainly  was  climbing  the  hill  at  a  remark- 
able pace.  Also,  so  far  as  we  were  able  to  judge 
at  that  distance,  he  appeared  to  be  in  a  remark- 
ably cheerful  mood,  singing  and  shouting  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  and  waving  his  arms. 

"What  a  merry  old  soul  it  is,"  said  Harris; 
"  it  does  one  good  to  watch  him.  But  why  does 
he  carry  his  stick  over  his  shoulder?  Why 
does  n't  he  use  it  to  help  him  up  the  hill  ? " 

"  Do  you  know,  I  don't  think  it  is  a  stick/' 
said  George. 

"What  can  it  be,  then?  "  asked  Harris. 

"  Well,  it  looks  to  me,"  said  George,  "  more 
like  a  gun." 

"You  don't  think  we  can  have  made  a  mis- 
253 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

take?"  suggested  Harris.  u  You  don't  think 
this  can  be  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  private 
orchard?" 

I  said :  "  Do  you  remember  the  sad  thing  that 
happened  in  the  South  of  France  some  two  years 
ago  ?  A  soldier  picked  some  cherries  as  he  passed 
a  house,  and  the  French  peasant  to  whom  the 
cherries  belonged  came  out  and  without  a  word 
of  warning  shot  him  dead." 

"  But  surely  you  are  not  allowed  to  shoot  a 
man  dead  for  picking  fruit,  even  in  France  ?  " 
said  George. 

"  Of  course  not,"  I  answered.  "  It  was  quite 
illegal.  The  only  excuse  offered  by  his  counsel  was 
that  he  was  of  a  highly  excitable  disposition,  and 
especially  keen  about  those  particular  cherries." 

"  I  recollect  something  about  the  case,"  said 
Harris,  "  now  you  mention  it.  I  believe  the  dis- 
trict in  which  it  happened  —  the  'Commune/  as 
I  think  it  is  called  —  had  to  pay  heavy  compen- 
sation to  the  relatives  of  the  deceased  soldier, 
which  was  only  fair." 

George  said :  "  I  am  tired  of  this  place.  Be- 
sides, it's  getting  late." 

Harris  said :  "  If  he  goes  at  that  rate  he  will 
fall  and  hurt  himself.  Besides,  I  don't  believe 
he  knows  the  way." 

I  felt  lonesome  up  there  all  by  myself,  with 
nobody  to  speak  to.  Besides,  not  since  I  was  a 
boy,  I  reflected,  had  I  enjoyed  a  run  down  a 

254 


The   Slave  of  the  Brick 

really  steep  hill.  I  thought  I  would  see  if  I 
could  revive  the  sensation.  It  is  a  jerky  exercise, 
but  good,  I  should  say,  for  the  liver. 

We  slept  that  night  at  Barr,  a  pleasant  little 
town,  on  the  way  to  St.  Ottilienberg,  an  interest- 
ing old  inn  among  the  mountains,  where  you  are 
waited  upon  by  real  nuns  and  your  bill  made  out 
by  a  priest.  Just  before  supper  a  tourist  entered. 
He  looked  English,  but  spoke  a  language  the 
like  of  which  I  had  never  heard  before.  Yet  it 
was  an  elegant  and  fine-sounding  language.  The 
landlord  stared  at  him  blankly ;  the  landlady 
shook  her  head.  He  sighed,  and  tried  another, 
which  somehow  recalled  to  me  forgotten  memo- 
ries, though  at  the  time  I  could  not  fix  it.  But 
again  nobody  understood  him. 

"  This  is  damnable,"  he  said  aloud  to  himself. 

"  Ah,  you  are  English,"  exclaimed  the  landlord. 

"  And  Monsieur  looks  tired,"  added  the  kindly 
little  landlady  ;  "  Monsieur  will  have  supper." 

They  both  spoke  English  excellently,  nearly  as 
well  as  they  spoke  French  and  German,  and  they 
bustled  about  and  made  him  comfortable.  At 
supper  he  sat  next  to  me,  and  I  talked  to  him. 

"  Tell  me,"  I  said  —  I  was  curious  on  the  sub- 
ject—  "what  language  was  it  you  spoke  when 
you  first  came  in  ?  " 

"  German,"  he  explained.  "  You  did  not  un- 
derstand it  ? " 

"It  must  have  been  my  fault,"  I  answered ; 
25S 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    IFh  eels 


"  my  knowledge  is  limited.  One  picks  up  a  little 
here  and  there  as  one  goes  about,  but  of  course 
that  is  a  different  thing." 

"  But  they  did  not  understand  it,"  he  replied, 
"  the  landlord  and  his  wife  ;  and  it  is  their  own 
language." 

"  I  do  not  think  so,"  I  said.  "  The  children 
hereabout  speak  German,  it  is  true,  and  our  land- 
lord and  landlady  know  German  to  a  certain 
point.  But  throughout  Alsace  and  Lorraine  the 
old  people  still  talk  French." 

"  And  I  spoke  to  them  in  French  also,"  he 
added,  "and  they  understood  that  no  better." 

"It  is  certainly  very  curious,"  I  agreed. 

"It  is  more  than  curious,"  he  replied  ;  "  in  my 
case  it  is  incomprehensible.  I  possess  a  diploma 
for  modern  languages.  I  won  my  scholarship 
purely  on  the  strength  of  my  French  and  Ger- 
man. The  purity  of  my  pronunciation  was  con- 
sidered at  my  college  to  be  quite  remarkable. 
Can  you  explain  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  can,"  I  replied.  "  Your  pronunci- 
ation is  too  faultless.  You  remember  what  the 
Scotsman  said  when  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  tasted  real  whiskey  :  c  It  may  be  puir,  but  I 
canna  drink  it'  ;  so  it  is  with  your  German.  It 
strikes  one  less  as  a  language  than  as  an  exhibi- 
tion. If  I  might  offer  advice,  I  should  say  :  mis- 
pronounce as  much  as  possible,  and  throw  in  as 
many  mistakes  as  you  can." 

256 


The   Slave   of  the  Brick 

It  is  the  same  everywhere.  Each  country 
keeps  a  special  pronunciation  exclusively  for  the 
use  of  foreigners ;  a  pronunciation  they  never 
dream  of  using  themselves,  that  they  cannot  un- 
derstand when  it  is  used. 

Putting  aside  the  sufferings  of  the  early  martyrs, 
few  men,  I  suppose,  have  gone  through  more 
than  I  myself  went  through  in  trying  to  attain 
the  correct  pronunciation  of  the  German  word 
for  "church"  — "  kirche."  Long  before  I  had 
done  with  it  I  had  determined  never  to  go  to 
church  in  Germany  rather  than  be  bothered 
with  it. 

"  No,  no,"  my  teacher  would  explain  —  he  was 
a  painstaking  gentleman  —  "you  say  it  as  if  it 
were  spelled  k-i-r-c-h-k-e.  There  is  no  k.  It 

is "     And  he  would  illustrate  to  me  again, 

for  the  twentieth  time  that  morning. 

"  You  say  it  from  your  throat,"  he  would  ex- 
plain. "  I  want  you  to  say  it  from  down  here," 
and  with  a  fat  forefinger  he  would  indicate  the 
region  from  where  I  was  to  start.  After  painful 
efforts  resulting  in  sounds  suggestive  of  anything 
rather  than  a  place  of  worship,  I  would  excuse 
myself. 

"  I  really  fear  it  is  impossible,"  I  would  say. 
"  You  see,  for  years  I  have  always  talked  with 
my  mouth,  as  it  were  ;  I  never  knew  a  man  could 
talk  with  his  stomach.  I  doubt  if  it  is  not  too 
late  now  for  me  to  learn/* 
17  257 


XIII.  — HOW   GERMAN   STUDENTS 
AMUSE   THEMSELVES 

BEING  wishful  to  obtain  an  insight  into 
the  ways    of  student   life   (a  curiosity 
that   the  courtesy  of  German    friends 
enabled    us     to    gratify),    we    passed 
through    a    German    university    town. 
The  English  boy  plays  till  he  is  fifteen,  and 
works    thence    till    twenty.      In  Germany    it   is 
the  child  that  works,  the  young  man  that  plays. 
The  German  boy  goes  to  school  at  seven  o'clock 
in  the    summer,  at  eight   in  the  winter,  and    at 
school   he  studies.     The  result  is  that  at  sixteen 
he    has    a    thorough    knowledge  of  the    classics 
and  mathematics,  knows  as  much  history  as  any 
man    compelled    to    belong  to  a  political    party 
is  wise    in    knowing,   together  with   a  thorough 
grounding  in  modern  languages.     Therefore  his 
eight  college  semesters,  extending  over  four  years, 
are,  except  for  the  young  man  aiming  at  a  pro- 
fessorship,   unnecessarily   ample.     He    is    not   a 
sportsman,  which  is  a  pity,  for  he  should  make 
a  good  one.     He  plays  football  a  little,  bicycles 
still   less ;   plays   French  billiards  in   stuffy  cafes 
more.      But  generally  speaking,  he,  or   the  ma- 
jority of  him,  lays  out  his  time  bummelling,  beer 
drinking,  and    fighting.     If  he    be    the  son   of 

258 


German    Students 

a  wealthy  father  he  joins  a  Korps  —  to  belong 
to  a  crack  Korps  costs  about  four  hundred 
pounds  a  year.  If  he  be  a  middle-class  young 
man,  he  enrolls  himself  in  a  Burschenschaft,  or 
a  Landsmannschaft,  which  is  still  a  little  cheaper. 
These  companies  are  again  broken  up  into 
smaller  circles,  in  which  attempt  is  made  to  keep 
to  nationality.  There  are  the  Swabians,  from 
Swabia ;  the  Frankonians,  descendants  of  the 
Franks;  the  Thuringians,  and  so  forth.  In 
practice,  of  course,  this  results  as  all  such  at- 
tempts do  result ;  I  believe  half  our  Gordon 
Highlanders  are  Cockneys ;  but  the  picturesque 
object  is  obtained  of  dividing  each  university 
into  some  dozen  or  so  separate  companies  of 
students,  each  one  with  its  distinctive  cap  and 
colours,  and,  quite  as  important,  its  own  par- 
ticular beer  hall,  into  which  no  other  student 
wearing  his  colours  may  come. 

The  chief  work  of  these  student  companies 
is  to  fight  among  themselves,  or  with  some  rival 
Korps  or  Schaft,  the  celebrated  German  Mensur. 

The  Mensur  has  been  described  so  often  and 
so  thoroughly  that  I  do  not  intend  to  bore  my 
readers  with  any  detailed  account  of  it.  I  merely 
come  forward  as  an  impressionist,  and  I  write 
purposely  the  impression  of  my  first  Mensur, 
because  I  believe  that  first  impressions  are  more 
true  and  useful  than  opinions  blunted  by  inter- 
course or  shaped  by  influence. 

259 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

A  Frenchman  or  a  Spaniard  will  seek  to  per- 
suade you  that  the  bull  ring  is  an  institution  got 
up  chiefly  for  the  benefit  of  the  bull.  The  horse 
which  you  imagined  to  be  screaming  with  pain 
was  only  laughing  at  the  comical  appearance  pre- 
sented by  his  own  inside.  Your  French  or 
Spanish  friend  contrasts  its  glorious  and  exciting 
death  in  the  ring  with  the  cold-blooded  brutality 
of  the  knacker's  yard.  If  you  do  not  keep  a 
tight  hold  of  your  head  you  come  away  with  the 
desire  to  start  an  agitation  for  the  inception  of 
the  bull  ring  in  England  as  an  aid  to  chivalry. 
No  doubt  Torquemada  was  convinced  of  the 
humanity  of  the  Inquisition.  To  a  stout  gentle- 
man, suffering,  perhaps  from  cramp  or  rheu- 
matism, an  hour  or  so  on  the  rack  was  really 
a  physical  benefit.  He  would  rise  feeling  more 
free  in  his  joints,  more  elastic,  as  one  might  say, 
than  he  had  felt  for  years.  English  huntsmen 
regard  the  fox  as  an  animal  to  be  envied.  A 
day's  really  excellent  sport  is  provided  for  him 
free  of  charge,  during  which  he  is  the  centre  of 
attraction. 

Use  blinds  one  to  everything  one  does  not 
wish  to  see.  Every  third  German  gentleman 
you  meet  in  the  street  still  bears,  and  will  bear 
to  his  grave,  marks  of  the  twenty  to  a  hundred 
duels  he  has  fought  in  his  student  days.  The 
German  children  play  at  the  Mensur  in  the 
nursery,  rehearse  it  in  the  gymnasium.  The 

260 


German    Students 

Germans  have  come  to  persuade  themselves  there 
is  no  brutality  in  it,  nothing  offensive,  nothing 
degrading.  Their  argument  is  that  it  schools  the 
German  youth  to  coolness  and  courage.  If  this 
could  be  proved,  the  argument,  particularly  in 
a  country  where  every  man  is  a  soldier,  would 
be  sufficiently  one-sided.  But  is  the  virtue  of 
the  prize-fighter  the  virtue  of  the  soldier  ?  One 
doubts  it.  Nerve  and  dash  are  surely  of  more 
service  in  the  field  than  a  temperament  of  un- 
reasoning indifference  as  to  what  is  happening 
to  one.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  German  student 
would  have  to  be  possessed  of  much  more 
courage  not  to  fight.  He  fights  not  to  please 
himself  but  to  satisfy  a  public  opinion  that  is 
two  hundred  years  behind  the  times. 

All  the  Mensur  does  is  to  brutalise  him. 
There  may  be  skill  displayed  ;  I  am  told  there 
is  ;  but  it  is  not  apparent.  The  mere  fighting  is 
like  nothing  so  much  as  a  broad-sword  combat 
at  a  Richardson's  show ;  the  display  as  a  whole 
a  successful  attempt  to  combine  the  ludicrous 
with  the  unpleasant.  In  aristocratic  Bonn,  where 
style  is  considered,  and  in  Heidelberg,  where 
visitors  from  other  nations  are  more  common, 
the  affair  is  perhaps  more  formal.  I  am  told 
that  there  the  contests  take  place  in  handsome 
rooms  ;  that  gray-haired  doctors  wait  upon  the 
wounded,  and  liveried  servants  upon  the  hungry, 
and  that  the  affair  is  conducted  throughout  with 

261 


Three    Men   on    Wheels 

a  certain  amount  of  picturesque  ceremony.  In 
the  more  essentially  German  universities,  where 
strangers  are  rare  and  not  much  encouraged,  the 
simple  essentials  are  the  only  things  kept  in  view, 
and  these  are  not  of  an  inviting  nature. 

Indeed,  so  distinctly  uninviting  are  they  that 
I  strongly  advise  the  sensitive  reader  to  avoid 
even  this  description  of  them.  The  subject 
cannot  be  made  pretty ;  and  I  do  not  intend 
to  try. 

The  room  is  bare  and  sordid ;  its  walls  splashed 
with  mixed  stains  of  beer,  blood,  and  candle- 
grease  ;  its  ceiling,  smoky ;  its  floor,  sawdust 
covered.  A  crowd  of  students,  laughing,  smok- 
ing, talking,  some  sitting  on  the  floor,  others 
perched  upon  chairs  and  benches,  form  the 
framework. 

In  the  centre,  facing  one  another,  stand  the 
combatants,  resembling  Japanese  warriors  as  made 
familiar  to  us  by  the  Japanese  tea-tray.  Quaint 
and  rigid,  with  their  goggle-covered  eyes,  their 
necks  tied  up  in  comforters,  their  bodies  smothered 
in  what  look  like  dirty  bedquilts,  their  padded 
arms  stretched  straight  above  their  heads,  they 
might  be  a  pair  of  ungainly  clockwork  figures. 
The  seconds,  also  more  or  less  padded,  their 
heads  and  faces  protected  by  huge  leather-peaked 
caps,  drag  them  out  into  their  proper  position  ; 
one  almost  listens  to  hear  the  sound  of  the  cas- 
tors. The  umpire  takes  his  place,  the  word  is 

262 


"  A  crowd  of  students  laughing,  smoking,  talking" 


German    Students 

given,  and    immediately  there  follow  five    rapid 
clashes  of  the  long,  straight  swords.     There  is 


"  He  fights  not  to  please  himself  " 

no  interest  in  watching  the  fight.  There  is  no 
movement,  no  skill,  no  grace.  (I  am  speaking 
of  my  own  impressions.)  The  strongest  man 
wins  —  the  man  who  with  his  heavily  padded 

263 


r  e  e   M  en   on    ffih  eel 


arm  always  in  an  unnatural  position  can  hold  his 
huge  clumsy  sword  longest  without  growing  too 
weak  to  be  able  either  to  guard  or  to  strike. 

The  whole  interest  is  centred  in  watching  the 
wounds.  They  come  always  in  one  of  two 
places  :  on  the  top  of  the  head  or  the  left  side 
of  the  face.  Sometimes  a  portion  of  hairy  scalp 
or  section  of  cheek  flies  up  into  the  air,  to  be 
carefully  preserved  in  an  envelope  by  its  proud 
possessor,  or  strictly  speaking,  its  proud  former 
possessor,  and  shown  round  on  convivial  even- 
ings ;  and  from  every  wound  of  course  flows  a 
plentiful  stream  of  blood.  It  splashes  doctors, 
seconds  and  spectators  ;  it  sprinkles  ceiling  and 
walls  ;  it  saturates  the  fighters,  and  makes  pools 
for  itself  in  the  sawdust.  At  the  end  of  each 
round  the  doctors  rush  up,  and  with  hands 
already  dripping  with  blood,  press  together  the 
gaping  wounds,  dabbing  them  with  little  balls  of 
wet  cotton  wool  which  an  attendant  carries  ready 
on  a  plate.  Naturally  the  moment  the  men 
stand  up  again  and  commence  work  the  blood 
gushes  out  again,  half  blinding  them,  and  render- 
ing the  ground  beneath  them  slippery.  Now 
and  then  you  see  a  man's  teeth  laid  bare  almost 
to  the  ear,  so  that  for  the  rest  of  the  duel  he  ap- 
pears to  be  grinning  at  one-half  of  the  spectators, 
his  other  side  remaining  serious  ;  and  sometimes 
a  man's  nose  gets  slit,  which  gives  to  him  as  he 
fights  a  singularly  supercilious  air. 

264 


German   Students 

As  the  object  of  each  student  is  to  go  away 
from  the  university  bearing  as  many  scars  as  pos- 
sible, I  doubt  if  any  particular  pains  be  taken  to 
guard,  even  to  the  small  extent  such  method  of 
fighting  can  allow.  The  real  victor  is  he  who 
comes  out  with  the  greatest  number  of  wounds ; 
he  who  then,  stitched  and  patched  almost  to  un- 
recognition  as  a  human  being,  can  promenade  for 
the  next  month,  the  envy  of  the  German  youth, 
the  admiration  of  the  German  maiden.  He  who 
obtains  only  a  few  unimportant  wounds  retires 
sulky  and  disappointed. 

But  the  actual  fighting  is  only  the  beginning 
of  the  fun.  The  second  act  of  the  spectacle  takes 
place  in  the  dressing-room.  The  doctors  are  gen- 
erally mere  medical  students  —  young  fellows, 
who,  having  taken  their  degree,  are  anxious  for 
practice.  Truth  compels  me  to  say  that  those 
with  whom  I  came  in  contact  were  coarse-looking 
men  who  seemed  rather  to  relish  their  work. 
Perhaps  they  are  not  to  be  blamed  for  this.  It 
is  part  of  the  system  that  as  much  further  punish- 
ment as  possible  must  be  inflicted  by  the  doctor, 
and  the  ideal  medical  man  might  hardly  care  for 
such  job.  How  the  student  bears  the  dressing 
of  his  wounds  is  as  important  as  how  he  receives 
them.  Every  operation  has  to  be  performed  as 
brutally  as  may  be,  and  his  companions  carefully 
watch  him  during  the  process  to  see  that  he  goes 
through  it  with  an  appearance  of  peace  and  enjoy- 

265 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

ment.  A  clean-cut  wound  that  gapes  wide  is 
most  desired  by  all  parties.  On  purpose  it  is 
sewn  up  clumsily,  with  the  hope  that  by  this 
means  the  scar  will  last  a  lifetime.  Such  a  wound, 
judiciously  mauled  and  interfered  with  during  the 
week  afterward,  can  generally  be  reckoned  to 
secure  its  fortunate  possessor  a  wife  with  a  dowry 
of  five  figures  at  the  least. 

These  are  the  general  bi-weekly  Mensurs,  of 
which  the  average  student  fights  some  dozen  a 
year.  There  are  others  to  which  visitors  are  not 
admitted.  When  a  student  is  considered  to  have 
disgraced  himself  by  some  slight  involuntary 
movement  of  the  head  or  body  while  fighting, 
then  he  can  only  regain  his  position  by  standing 
up  to  the  best  swordsman  in  his  Korps.  He  de- 
mands and  is  accorded,  not  a  contest,  but  a  pun- 
ishment. His  opponent  then  proceeds  to  inflict 
as  many  and  as  bloody  wounds  as  can  be  taken. 
The  object  of  the  victim  is  to  show  his  comrades 
that  he  can  stand  still  while  his  head  is  half  sliced 
from  his  skull. 

Whether  anything  can  properly  be  said  in 
favour  of  the  German  Mensur  I  am  doubtful ; 
but  if  it  can  it  concerns  only  the  two  combatants. 
Upon  the  spectators,  I  am  convinced,  it  exercises 
nothing  but  evil.  I  know  myself  sufficiently  well 
to  be  sure  I  am  not  of  an  unusually  bloodthirsty 
disposition.  The  effect  it  had  upon  me  can  only 
be  the  usual  effect.  At  first,,  before  the  actual 

266 


German   Students 

work  commenced,  my  sensation  was  curiosity 
mingled  with  anxiety  as  to  how  the  sight  would 
trouble  me,  though  some  slight  acquaintance  with 
dissecting  rooms  and  operating  tables  left  me  less 
doubt  on  that  point  than  I  might  otherwise  have 
felt.  As  the  blood  began  to  flow,  and  nerves  and 
muscles  to  be  laid  bare,  I  experienced  a  mingling 
of  disgust  and  pity.  But  with  the  second  duel,  I 
must  confess,  my  finer  feelings  began  to  disap- 
pear ;  and  by  the  time  the  third  was  well  upon 
its  way,  and  the  room  heavy  with  the  curious  hot 
odour  of  blood,  I  began,  as  the  American  expres- 
sion is,  to  see  things  red. 

I  wanted  more.  I  looked  from  face  to  face 
surrounding  me,  and  in  most  of  them  I  found 
reflected  undoubtedly  my  own  sensations.  If  it 
be  a  good  thing  to  excite  this  blood-thirst  in  the 
modern  man,  then  the  Mensur  is  a  useful  in- 
stitution. But  is  it  a  good  thing?  We  prate 
about  our  civilization  and  humanity,  but  those 
of  us  who  do  not  carry  hypocrisy  to  the  length 
of  self-deception  know  that  underneath  our 
starched  shirts  there  lurks  the  savage,  with  all 
his  savage  instincts  untouched.  Occasionally  he 
may  be  wanted,  but  we  never  need  fear  his  dying 
out.  On  the  other  hand,  it  seems  unwise  to 
over-nourish  him. 

In  favour  of  the  duel  seriously  considered  there 
are  many  points  to  be  urged.  But  the  Mensur 
serves  no  good  purpose  whatever.  It  is  child- 

267 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    VFh  eel 


ishness,  and  the  fact  of  its  being  a  cruel  and 
brutal  game  makes  it  none  the  less  childish. 
Wounds  have  no  instrinsic  value  of  their  own  ; 
it  is  the  cause  that  dignifies  them,  not  their  size. 
William  Tell  is  rightly  one  of  the  heroes  of  the 
world,  but  what  should  we  think  of  the  members 
of  a  club  of  fathers,  formed  with  the  object  of 
meeting  twice  a  week  to  shoot  apples  from  their 
sons'  heads  with  cross-bows  ?  These  young 
German  gentlemen  could  obtain  all  the  results 
of  which  they  are  so  proud  by  teasing  a  wildcat  ! 
To  join  a  club  for  the  mere  purpose  of  getting 
yourself  hacked  about  reduces  a  man  to  the  intel- 
lectual level  of  a  dancing  Dervish.  Travellers 
tell  us  of  savages  in  Central  Africa  who  express 
their  feelings  on  festive  occasions  by  jumping 
about  and  slashing  themselves.  But  there  is  no 
need  for  Europe  to  imitate  them.  The  Mensur 
is,  in  fact,  the  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  the  duel  ; 
and  if  the  Germans  themselves  cannot  see  that  it 
is  funny  one  can  only  regret  their  lack  of  humour. 
But  though  one  may  be  unable  to  agree  with 
the  public  opinion  that  supports  and  commands 
the  Mensur,  it  at  least  is  possible  to  understand. 
The  university  code,  that  if  it  does  not  encourage 
at  least  condones  drunkenness,  is  more  difficult 
to  treat  argumentatively.  All  German  students 
do  not  get  drunk  —  in  fact,  the  majority  are 
sober,  if  not  industrious.  But  the  minority, 
whose  claim  to  be  representative  is  freely  ad- 
268 


German    Students 

mitted,  are  only  saved  from  perpetual  inebriety 
by  ability,  acquired  at  some  cost,  to  swill  half 
the  day  and  all  the  night,  while  retaining  to  some 
extent  their  five  senses.  It  does  not  affect  all 
alike,  but  it  is  common  in  any  university  town 
to  see  a  young  man  not  yet  twenty  with  the 
figure  of  a  Falstaff  and  the  complexion  of  an 
elderly  Bacchus.  That  the  German  maiden  can 
be  fascinated  with  a  face  cut  and  gashed  till  it 
suggests  having  been  made  out  of  odd  materials 
that  never  could  have  fitted  is  a  proved  fact. 
But  surely  there  can  be  no  attraction  about  a 
blotched  and  bloated  skin  and  a  "  bay  window  " 
thrown  out  to  an  extent  threatening  to  overbal- 
ance the  whole  structure.  Yet  what  else  can  be 
expected  when  the  youngster  starts  his  beer- 
drinking  with  a  "  Fruhschoppen  "  at  ten  a.  m. 
and  closes  it  with  a  "  Kneipe "  at  four  in  the 
morning  ? 

The  Kneipe  is  what  we  should  call  a  stag 
party,  and  can  be  very  harmless  or  very  rowdy 
according  to  its  composition.  One  man  invites 
his  fellow  students,  a  dozen  or  a  hundred,  to  a 
cafe,  and  provides  them  with  as  much  beer  and 
as  many  cheap  cigars  as  their  own  sense  of  health 
and  comfort  may  dictate.  Or  the  host  may  be 
the  Korps  itself.  Here,  as  everywhere,  you 
observe  the  German  sense  of  discipline  and  order. 
As  each  newcomer  enters,  all  those  sitting  around 
the  table  rise,  and,  with  heels  close  together, 

269 


Three   Men   on    W h  e  e  I s 

salute.  When  the  table  is  complete,  a  Chairman 
is  chosen,  whose  duty  it  is  to  give  out  the  num- 
ber of  the  songs.  Printed  books  of  these  songs, 
one  to  each  two  men,  lie  around  the  table.  The 
Chairman  gives  out  number  Twenty-nine.  "  First 
verse,"  he  cries,  and  away  all  go,  each  two  men 
holding  a  book  between  them  exactly  as  two 
people  might  hold  a  hymn-book  in  church. 
There  is  a  pause  at  the  end  of  each  verse  until 
the  Chairman  starts  the  company  on  the  next. 
As  every  German  man  is  a  trained  singer,  and 
as  most  of  them  have  fair  voices,  the  general 
effect  is  striking. 

Although  the  manner  may  be  suggestive  of 
the  singing  of  hymns  in  church,  the  words  of 
the  songs  are  occasionally  such  as  to  correct  this 
impression.  But  whether  it  be  a  patriotic  song  or 
a  sentimental  ballad,  all  are  sung  through  with 
stern  earnestness,  without  a  laugh,  without  a 
false  note.  At  the  end  the  Chairman  calls 
"  Prosit!  "  Every  one  answers,  "  Prosit !  "  and 
the  next  moment  every  glass  is  empty.  The 
pianist  rises  and  bows,  and  is  bowed  to  in  return ; 
and  then  the  Fraulein  enters  to  refill  the  glasses. 

Between  the  songs,  toasts  are  proposed  and 
responded  to  ;  but  there  is  little  cheering,  and 
less  laughter.  Smiles  and  grave  nods  of  approval 
are  considered  more  seeming  among  German 
students. 

A  special  toast  called  a  Salamander,  accorded 
270 


German   Students 

to  some  guest  as  a  special  distinction,  is  drunk 
with  exceptional  solemnity. 


"  With  the  figure  of  a  Falstaff" 

"  We  will  now/'  says  the  Chairman,  "  a  Sala- 
mander rub,"  ("  Einen  Salamander  reiben "). 
We  all  rise  and  stand  like  a  regiment  at  attention. 

271 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 


"  Is  the  stuff  prepared  ?  "  ("  Sind  die  Stoffe 
parat  ?  ")  demands  the  Chairman. 

"  Sunt,"  we  answer  with  one  voice. 

"  Ad  exercitium  Salamandri,"  says  the  Chair- 
man, and  we  are  ready. 

"  Eins  !  "  We  rub  our  glasses  with  a  circular 
motion  on  the  table. 

"  Zwei  !  "  Again  the  glasses  growl  ;  also  at 
"  Drei  !  " 

"  Drink  !  "     ("  Bibite.") 

And  with  mechanical  unison  every  glass  is 
emptied  and  held  on  high. 

"  Eins  !  "  says  the  Chairman.  The  foot  of 
every  empty  glass  twirls  upon  the  table,  produc- 
ing a  sound  as  of  the  dragging  back  of  a  stony 
beach  by  a  receding  wave. 

"  Zwei  !  "  The  roll  swells  and  sinks  again. 

"  Drei  !  "  The  glasses  strike  the  table  with  a 
single  crash  and  we  are  in  our  seats  again. 

The  sport  at  the  Kneipe  is  for  two  students  to 
insult  each  other  (in  play,  of  course)  and  to  then 
challenge  each  other  to  a  drinking  duel.  An 
umpire  is  appointed,  two  huge  glasses  are  filled, 
and  the  men  sit  opposite  each  other  with  their 
hands  upon  the  handles,  all  eyes  fixed  upon  them. 
The  umpire  gives  the  word  to  go,  and  in  an 
instant  the  beer  is  gurgling  down  their  throats. 
The  man  who  bangs  his  perfectly  finished  glass 
upon  the  table  first  is  victor. 

Strangers  who  are  going  through  a  Kneipe,  and 
272 


German   Students 

who  wish  to  do  the  thing  in  German  style,  will 
do  well,  before  commencing  proceedings,  to  pin 
their  names  and  address  upon  their  coats.  The 
German  student  is  courtesy  itself,  and  whatever 
his  own  state  may  be,  he  will  see  to  it  that,  by 
some  means  or  another,  his  guest  gets  safely 
home  before  the  morning.  But  of  course  he 
cannot  be  expected  to  remember  addresses. 

A  story  was  told  me  of  three  guests  to  a  Berlin 
Kneipe  which  might  have  had  tragic  results. 
The  strangers  determined  to  do  the  thing 
thoroughly.  They  explained  their  intention,  and 
were  applauded,  and  each  proceeded  to  write  his 
address  upon  his  card  and  pin  it  to  the  tablecloth 
in  front  of  him.  That  was  the  mistake  they 
made.  They  should,  as  I  have  advised,  have 
pinned  it  carefully  to  their  coats.  A  man  may 
change  his  place  at  a  table  ;  quite  unconsciously 
he  may  come  out  the  other  side  of  it ;  but 
wherever  he  goes  he  takes  his  coat  with  him. 

Some  time  in  the  small  hours  the  Chairman 
suggested  that  to  make  things  more  comfortable 
for  those  still  upright  all  the  gentlemen  unable  to 
keep  their  heads  off  the  table  should  be  sent 
home.  Among  those  to  whom  the  proceedings 
had  become  uninteresting  were  the  three  English- 
men. It  was  decided  to  put  them  into  a  cab  in 
charge  of  a  comparatively  speaking  sober  student, 
and  return  them.  Had  they  retained  their 
original  seats  throughout  the  evening  all  would 
18  273 


Tb  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

have  been  well  ;  but,  unfortunately,  they  had  gone 
walking  about,  and  which  gentleman  belonged  to 
which  card  nobody  knew ;  least  of  all  the  guests 
themselves.  In  the  then  state  of  general  cheer- 
fulness this  did  not  to  anybody  appear  to  much 
matter.  There  were  three  gentlemen  and  three 
addresses.  I  suppose  the  idea  was  that  even  if  a 
mistake  were  made  the  parties  could  be  sorted 
out  in  the  morning.  Anyhow,  the  three  gentle- 
men were  put  into  a  cab,  the  comparatively 
speaking  sober  student  took  the  three  cards  in 
his  hand,  and  the  party  started  amid  the  cheers 
and  good  wishes  of  the  company. 

There  is  this  advantage  about  German  beer; 
it  does  not  make  a  man  drunk  as  the  word  drunk 
is  understood  in  England.  There  is  nothing 
objectionable  about  him ;  he  is  simply  tired. 
He  does  not  want  to  talk  ;  he  wants  to  be  let 
alone  —  to  go  to  sleep ;  it  does  not  matter  where 
—  anywhere. 

The  conductor  of  the  party  stopped  his  cab  at 
the  nearest  address.  He  took  out  his  worst  case ; 
it  was  a  natural  instinct  to  get  rid  of  that  first. 
He  and  the  cabman  carried  it  upstairs  and  rang 
the  bell  of  the  pension.  A  sleepy  porter  answered 
it.  They  carried  their  burden  in  and  looked  for 
a  place  to  drop  it.  A  bedroom  door  happened 
to  be  open ;  the  room  was  empty  ;  could  anything 
be  better  ?  They  took  it  in  there.  They  relieved 
it  of  such  few  things  as  came  off  easily  and  laid  it 

274 


German   Students 

in  the  bed.     This  done,  both  men,  pleased  with 
themselves,  returned  to  the  cab. 

At  the  next  address  they  stopped  again.  This 
time  in  answer  to  their  summons  a  lady  appeared, 
dressed  in  a  tea-gown,  with  a  book  in  her  hand. 
The  German  student  looked  at  the  top  one  of  the 
two  cards  still  remaining  in  his  hand  and  inquired 
if  he  had  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Frau  Y.  It 
happened  that  he  had,  though  so  far  as  any 
pleasure  was  concerned  that  appeared  to  be 
entirely  on  his  side.  He  explained  to  Frau  Y. 
that  the  gentleman  at  that  moment  asleep  against 
the  wall  was  her  husband.  The  reunion  moved 
her  to  no  enthusiasm  ;  she  simply  opened  the  bed- 
room door  and  then  walked  away.  The  cabman 
and  the  student  took  him  in  and  laid  him  on  the 
bed.  They  did  not  trouble  to  undress  him;  they 
were  feeling  tired !  They  did  not  see  the  lady  of  the 
house  again,  and  retired  therefore  without  adieus. 

The  last  card  was  that  of  a  bachelor,  stopping 
at  a  hotel.  They  took  their  last  man,  therefore, 
to  that  hotel,  passed  him  over  to  the  night  porter, 
and  left  him. 

To  return  to  the  address  at  which  the  first 
delivery  was  made,  what  had  happened  there  was 
this :  Some  eight  hours  previously  had  said  Mr. 
X.  to  Mrs.  X.  : 

"  I  think  I  told  you,  my  dear,  that  I  had  an 
invitation  for  this  evening  to  what  I  believe  is 
called  a  Kneipe  ?  " 

275 


Three  Men   on    Wheels 

"  You  did  mention  something  of  the  sort,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  X.  "  What  is  a  Kneipe  ?  " 

"  Well,  it 's  a  sort  of  bachelor  party,  my  dear, 
where  the  students  meet  to  sing  and  talk  and  — 
and  smoke,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  yourself," 
said  Mrs.  X.,  who  was  a  nice  woman  and  sensible. 

"  It  will  be  interesting,"  observed  Mr.  X.  "  I 
have  often  had  a  curiosity  to  see  one.  I  may," 
continued  Mr.  X.,  "  I  mean  it  is  possible  that  I 
may  be  home  a  little  late." 

"  What  do  you  call  late  ? "  asked  Mrs.  X. 

"  It  is  somewhat  difficult  to  say,"  returned  Mr. 
X.  "  You  see,  these  students,  they  are  a  wild  lot, 

and  when  they  get  together And  then  I 

believe  a  good  many  toasts  are  drunk.  I  don't 
know  how  it  will  affect  me.  If  I  can  see  an  op- 
portunity I  shall  come  away  early  —  that  is,  if  I 
can  do  so  without  giving  offence  ;  but  if  not " 

Said  Mrs.  X.,  who,  as  I  have  remarked  before, 
was  a  sensible  woman  :  "  You  had  better  get  the 
people  here  to  lend  you  a  latch  key.  I  shall 
sleep  with  Dolly,  and  then  you  won't  disturb  me 
whatever  time  it  may  be." 

"  I  think  that  an  excellent  idea  of  yours," 
agreed  Mr.  X. ;  "I  should  hate  disturbing  you. 
I  shall  just  come  in  quietly,  and  slip  into  bed." 

Some  time  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  or  maybe 
toward  the  early  morning,  Dolly,  who  was  Mrs. 
X.'s  sister,  sat  up  in  bed  and  listened. 

276 


German   Students 

"  Jenny/'  said  Dolly,  "  are  you  awake  ?  " 

"Yes,  dear,"  answered  Mrs.  X.  "It's  all 
right ;  you  go  to  sleep  again." 

"But  whatever  is  it?"  asked  Dolly.  "Do 
you  think  it's  fire?" 

"  I  expect,"  replied  Mrs.  X.,  "  that  it 's  Percy. 
Very  possibly  he  has  stumbled  over  something  in 
the  dark.  Don't  you  worry,  dear;  you  go  to 
sleep." 

But  so  soon  as  Dolly  had  dozed  off  again, 
Mrs.  X.,  who  was  a  good  wife,  thought  she  would 
steal  out  softly  and  see  to  it  that  Percy  was  all 
right.  So  putting  on  a  dressing-gown  and  slip- 
pers, she  crept  along  the  passage  and  into  her 
own  room.  To  awake  the  gentleman  on  the  bed 
would  have  required  an  earthquake.  She  lit  a 
candle  and  stole  over  to  the  bedside. 

It  was  not  Percy ;  it  was  not  any  one  like 
Percy.  She  felt  it  was  not  tr;e  man  that  ever 
could  have  been  her  husband  under  any  circum- 
stances. In  his  present  condition  her  sentiment 
toward  him  was  that  of  positive  dislike.  Her 
only  desire  was  to  get  rid  of  him. 

But  something  there  was  about  him  seemed 
familiar  to  her.  She  went  nearer,  and  took  a 
closer  view.  Then  she  remembered.  Surely  it 
was  Mr.  Y.,  a  gentleman  at  whose  flat  she  and 
Percy  had  dined  the  first  day  they  arrived  in 
Berlin. 

But  what  was  he  doing  here  ?  She  put  the 
277 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 


candle  on  the  table,  and  taking  her  head  between 
her  hands,  sat  down  to  think.  The  explanation 
of  the  thing  came  to  her  with  a  rush.  It  was 
with  this  Mr.  Y.  that  Percy  had  gone  to  the 
Kneipe.  A  mistake  had  been  made.  Mr.  Y. 
had  been  brought  back  to  Percy's  address  ;  Percy 
at  this  very  moment  - 

The  terrible  possibilities  of  the  situation  swam 
before  her.  Returning  to  Dolly's  room,  she 
dressed  herself  hastily  and  silently  crept  down- 
stairs. Finding,  fortunately,  a  passing  night  cab, 
she  drove  to  the  address  of  Mrs.  Y.  Telling  the 
man  to  wait,  she  flew  upstairs  and  rang  persist- 
ently at  the  bell.  The  door  was  opened  as  before 
by  Mrs.  Y.,  still  in  her  tea-gown,  and  with  her 
book  still  in  her  hand. 

"  Mrs.  X.  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Y.  "  Whatever 
brings  you  here  ?  " 

"  My  husband  !  "  was  all  poor  Mrs.  X.  could 
think  to  say  at  the  moment  ;  "  is  he  here  ?  " 

"Mrs.  X.,"  returned  Mrs.  Y.,  drawing  herself 
up  to  her  full  height,  "  how  dare  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  please  don't  misunderstand  me,"  pleaded 
Mrs.  X.  "It's  all  a  terrible  mistake.  They 
must  have  brought  poor  Percy  here  instead  of  to 
our  place,  I  'm  sure  they  must.  Do  please  look 
and  see." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Y.,  who  was  a  much 
older  woman  and  more  motherly,  "  don't  excite 
yourself.  They  brought  him  here  about  half  an 


German   Students 

hour  ago,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth  I  never  looked 
at  him.  He  is  in  here.  I  don't  think  they 
troubled  to  take  off  even  his  boots.  If  you  keep 
cool  we  will  get  him  downstairs  and  home  without 
a  soul  beyond  ourselves  being  any  the  wiser." 

Indeed,  Mrs.  Y.  seemed  quite  eager  to  help 
Mrs.  X.  She  pushed  open  the  door,  and  Mrs. 
X.  went  in.  The  next  moment  she  came  out 
with  a  white,  scared  face. 

"  It  is  n't  Percy,"  she  said.  "  Whatever  am  I 
to  do  ?  " 

"  I  wish  you  would  n't  make  these  mistakes," 
said  Mrs.  Y.,  moving  to  enter  the  room  herself. 

Mrs.  X.  stopped  her.  "  And  it  is  n't  your 
husband,  either." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Mrs.  Y. 

"  It  is  n't,  really,"  persisted  Mrs.  X.  "  I  know 
because  I  have  just  left  him  asleep  on  Percy's 
bed." 

"  What 's  he  doing  there  ?  "  thundered  Mrs.  Y. 

"  They  brought  him  there  and  put  him  there," 
explained  Mrs.  X.,  beginning  to  cry.  "  That 's 
what  made  me  think  Percy  must  be  here." 

The  two  women  stood  and  looked  at  one  an- 
other ;  and  there  was  silence  for  awhile,  broken 
only  by  the  snoring  of  the  gentleman  the  other 
side  of  the  half-open  door. 

"  Then  who  is  that  in  there  ?  "  demanded  Mrs. 
Y.,  who  was  the  first  to  recover  herself. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Mrs.  X.  "  I  have 
279 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W h  eels 

never  seen  him  before.  Do  you  think  it  is  any- 
body you  know  ? " 

But  Mrs.  Y.  only  banged  to  the  door. 

"  What  are  we  to  do  ?  "  said  Mrs.  X. 

"  I  know  what  /  am  going  to  do,"  said  Mrs. 
Y.  "  I  'm  coming  back  with  you  to  fetch  my 
husband." 

"  He  *s  very  sleepy,"  explained  Mrs.  X. 

"  I  Ve  known  him  to  be  that  before,"  replied 
Mrs.  Y.,  as  she  fastened  her  cloak. 

"  But  where  *s  Percy  ?  "  sobbed  poor  little 
Mrs.  X.,  as  they  descended  the  stairs  together. 

"  That,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Y.,  "  will  be  a 
question  for  you  to  ask  him" 

"  If  they  go  about  making  mistakes  like  this," 
said  Mrs.  X.,  "it's  impossible  to  say  what  they 
may  not  have  done  with  him !  " 

"  We  will  make  inquiries  in  the  morning,  my 
dear,"  said  Mrs.  Y.  consolingly. 

"  I  think  these  Kneipes  are  disgraceful  affairs," 
said  Mrs.  X.  "  I  shall  never  let  Percy  go  to 
another,  never  —  so  long  as  I  live." 

"  My  dear,"  remarked  Mrs.  Y.,  "  if  you  know 
your  duty  he  will  never  want  to."  And  rumour 
has  it  that  he  never  did. 

But  as  I  have  said,  the  mistake  was  in  pin- 
ning the  card  to  the  tablecloth  instead  of  to  the 
coat.  And  error  in  this  world  is  always  severely 
punished. 


280 


"  We  were  in  the  garden  of  the  Kaiser  Hof 


XIV.  — BACK   TO    ETHELBERTHA 

ANYBODY  could  rule  this  country," 
said  George ;  "  I  could  rule  it." 
We  were  seated  in  the  garden  of 
the  Kaiser   Hof,   at   Bonn,  looking 
down  upon  the   Rhine.     It  was  the 
last  evening  of  our  Bummel ;  the  early  morning 
train  would  be  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

"  I  should  write  down  on  a  piece  of  paper  all 
I  wanted  the  people  to  do,"  continued  George, 
"get  a  good  firm  to  print  off  so  many  copies, 
have  them  posted  about  the  towns  and  villages, 
and  the  thing  would  be  done." 

In  the  placid,  docile  German  of  to-day,  whose 
only  ambition  appears  to  be  to  pay  his  taxes,  and 
do  what  he  is  told  to  do  by  those  whom  it  has 
pleased  Providence  to  place  in  authority  over 
him,  it  is  difficult,  one  must  confess,  to  detect 
any  trace  of  his  wild  ancestor  to  whom  individual 
liberty  was  as  the  breath  of  his  nostrils ;  who 
appointed  his  magistrates  to  advise  but  retained 
the  right  of  execution  for  the  tribe  ;  who  followed 
his  chief,  but  would  have  scorned  to  obey  him. 

In  Germany  to-day  one  hears  a  good  deal  con- 
cerning Socialism  ;  but  it  is  a  Socialism  that  would 
only  be  Despotism  under  another  name.  Indi- 
vidualism makes  no  appeal  to  the  German  voter, 

281 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

He  is  willing,  nay,  anxious,  to  be  controlled  and 
regulated  in  all  things.  He  disputes,  not  gov- 
ernment, but  the  form  of  it.  The  policeman  is 
to  him  a  religion,  and  one  feels  will  always  remain 
so.  In  England  we  regard  our  man  in  blue  as  a 
harmless  necessity.  By  the  average  citizen  he  is 
employed  chiefly  as  a  signpost,  though  in  busy 
quarters  of  the  town  he  is  considered  useful  for 
taking  old  ladies  across  the  road.  Beyond  feeling 
thankful  to  him  for  these  services,  I  doubt  if  we 
take  much  thought  of  him.  In  Germany,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  is  worshipped  as  a  little  god, 
and  loved  as  a  guardian  angel.  To  the  German 
child  he  is  a  combination  of  Santa  Claus  and  the 
Bogie  Man.  All  good  things  come  from  him : 
holidays,  Spielplatze  to  play  in,  furnished  with 
swings  and  giant  strides,  sand  heaps  to  fight 
around,  swimming  baths,  and  fairs.  All  mis- 
behavior is  punished  by  him.  It  is  the  hope 
and  aim  of  every  well-meaning  German  boy  and 
girl  to  please  the  police.  To  be  smiled  at  by  a 
policeman  makes  it  conceited.  A  German  child 
that  has  been  patted  on  the  head  by  a  policeman 
is  not  fit  to  live  with :  its  self-importance  is 
unbearable. 

The  German  citizen  is  a  soldier,  and  the  police- 
man is  his  officer.  The  policeman  directs  him 
where  in  the  street  to  walk,  and  how  fast  to  walk. 
At  the  end  of  each  bridge  stands  a  policeman  to 
tell  the  German  how  to  cross  it.  Were  there  no 

282 


Back   to   Ethelbertba 

policeman  there  he  would  probably  sit  down  and 
wait  till  the  river  had  passed  by.     At  the  railway 


u  He  is  worshipped  as  a  little  god" 

station,  the  policeman  locks  him  up  in  the  wait- 
ing-room, where  he  can  do  no  harm  to  himself. 
When  the  proper  time  arrives  he  fetches  him 

283 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

out  and  hands  him  over  to  the  guard  of  the  train, 
who  is  only  a  policeman  in  another  uniform. 
The  guard  tells  him  where  to  sit  in  the  train,  and 
when  to  get  out,  and  sees  that  he  does  get  out. 
In  Germany  you  take  no  responsibility  upon 
yourself  whatever.  Everything  is  done  for  you, 
and  done  well.  You  are  not  supposed  to  look 
after  yourself;  you  are  not  blamed  for  being  in- 
capable of  looking  after  yourself;  it  is  the  duty 
of  the  German  policeman  to  look  after  you. 
That  you  may  be  a  helpless  idiot  does  not  excuse 
him  should  anything  happen  to  you.  Wherever 
you  are  and  whatever  you  are  doing  you  are  in 
his  charge,  and  he  takes  care  of  you  —  good  care 
of  you ;  there  is  no  denying  this. 

If  you  lose  yourself,  he  finds  you ;  and  if  you 
lose  anything  belonging  to  you,  he  recovers  it 
for  you.  If  you  don't  know  what  you  want,  he 
tells  you.  If  you  want  anything  that  is  good  for 
you  to  have,  he  gets  it  for  you.  Private  lawyers 
are  not  needed  in  Germany.  If  you  want  to  buy 
or  sell  a  house,  or  field,  or  dog,  the  State  makes 
out  the  conveyance.  If  you  have  been  swindled, 
the  State  takes  up  the  case  for  you.  The  State 
marries  you,  insures  you,  will  even  gamble  with 
you  for  a  trifle. 

"You  get  yourself  born,"  says  the  German 
Government  to  the  German  citizen ;  cc  we  do  the 
rest.  Indoors  and  out  of  doors,  in  sickness  and 
in  health,  in  pleasure  and  in  work,  we  will  tell 

284 


Back   to   Ethelbeftha 

you  what  to  do,  and  we  will  see  to  it  that  you 
do  it.  Don't  you  worry  yourself  about  any- 
thing." 

And  the  German  does  n't.  Where  there  is  no 
policeman  to  be  found  he  wanders  about  till  he 
comes  to  a  police  notice  posted  on  a  wall.  This 
he  reads ;  then  he  goes  and  does  what  it  says. 

I  remember  in  one  German  town  —  I  forget 
which  ;  it  is  immaterial ;  the  incident  could  have 
happened  in  any  —  noticing  an  open  gate  leading 
to  a  garden  in  which  a  concert  was  being  given. 
There  was  nothing  to  prevent  any  one  who  chose 
from  walking  through  that  gate  and  thus  gaining 
admittance  to  the  concert  without  paying.  In 
fact,  of  the  two  gates,  quarter  of  a  mile  apart,  it 
was  the  more  convenient.  Yet  of  the  crowds 
that  passed  not  one  attempted  to  enter  by  that 
gate.  They  plodded  steadily  on  under  a  blazing 
sun  to  the  other  gate,  at  which  a  man  stood  to 
collect  the  entrance  money.  I  have  seen  German 
youngsters  stand  longingly  by  the  margin  of  a 
lonely  sheet  of  ice.  They  could  have  skated  on 
that  ice  for  hours  and  nobody  have  been  the 
wiser.  The  crowd  and  the  police  were  at  the 
other  end,  more  than  half  a  mile  away,  and 
around  the  corner.  Nothing  stopped  their  go- 
ing on  but  the  knowledge  that  they  ought  not. 
Things  such  as  these  make  one  pause  to  wonder 
seriously  whether  the  Teuton  be  a  member  of 
the  sinful  human  family  or  not.  Is  it  not  pos- 

285 


Th  r  e  e    Me  n   o  n    W^h  eel 


sible  that  these  placid,  gentle  folk  may  in  reality 
be  angels,  come  down  to  earth  for  the  sake  of  a 
glass  of  beer,  which,  as  they  must  know,  can  only 
in  Germany  be  obtained  worth  the  drinking  ? 

In  Germany  the  country  roads  are  lined  with 
fruit  trees.  There  is  no  voice  to  stay  man  or 
boy  from  picking  and  eating  the  fruit,  except 
conscience.  In  England  such  a  state  of  things 
would  cause  public  indignation.  Children  would 
die  of  cholera  by  the  hundred.  The  medical 
profession  would  be  worked  off  its  legs  trying  to 
cope  with  the  natural  results  of  over-indulgence 
in  sour  apples  and  unripe  walnuts.  Public  opin- 
ion would  demand  that  these  fruit  trees  should 
be  fenced  about,  and  thus  rendered  harmless. 
Fruit  growers,  to  save  themselves  the  expense  of 
walls  and  palings,  would  not  be  allowed  in  this 
manner  to  spread  sickness  and  death  throughout 
the  community. 

But  in  Germany  a  boy  will  walk  for  miles 
down  a  lonely  road  hedged  with  fruit  trees  to 
buy  a  pennyworth  of  pears  in  the  village  at  the 
other  end.  To  pass  these  unprotected  trees, 
drooping  under  their  burden  of  ripe  fruit,  strikes 
the  Anglo-Saxon  mind  as  a  wicked  waste  of 
opportunity,  a  flouting  of  the  blessed  gifts  of 
Providence. 

I  do  not  know  if  it  be  so,  but  from  what  I 
have  observed  of  the  German  character  I  should 
not  be  surprised  to  hear  that  when  a  man  in 

286 


Back   to   Ethelbertha 

Germany  is  condemned  to  death  he  is  given  a 
piece  of  rope  and  told  to  go  and  hang  himself.  It 
would  save  the  State  much  trouble  and  expense, 
and  I  can  see  that  German  criminal  taking  that 
piece  of  rope  home  with  him,  reading  up  carefully 
the  police  instructions,  and  proceeding  to  carry 
them  out  in  his  own  back  kitchen. 

The  Germans  are  a  good  people  —  on  the 
whole  the  best  people,  perhaps,  morally  speaking, 
in  the  world :  an  amiable,  unselfish,  kindly  peo- 
ple. I  am  positive  that  the  vast  majority  of  them 
go  to  Heaven.  Indeed,  comparing  them  with 
the  other  Christian  nations  of  the  earth,  one  is 
forced  to  the  conclusion  that  Heaven  will  be 
chiefly  of  German  manufacture.  But  I  cannot 
understand  how  they  get  there.  That  the  soul 
of  any  single  individual  German  has  sufficient  in- 
itiative to  fly  up  by  itself  and  knock  at  St.  Peter's 
door  I  cannot  believe.  My  own  opinion  is  that 
they  are  taken  there  in  small  companies,  and 
passed  in  under  the  charge  of  a  dead  policeman. 

Carlyle  said  of  the  Prussians  (and  it  is  true  of 
the  whole  German  nation)  that  one  of  their  chief 
virtues  was  their  power  of  being  drilled.  Of  the 
Germans  you  might  say  they  are  a  people  who 
will  go  anywhere,  and  do  anything  —  they  are 
told.  Drill  a  German  for  the  work  and  send  him 
out  to  Africa  or  Asia  under  charge  of  somebody 
in  uniform,  and  he  is  bound  to  make  an  excellent 
colonist,  facing  difficulties  as  he  would  face  the 

287 


Three  Men   on    Wheels 

devil  himself,  if  ordered.  But  it  is  hard  to  con- 
ceive of  him  as  a  pioneer.  Left  to  run  himself, 
one  feels  he  would  soon  fade  away  and  die,  not 
from  any  lack  of  intelligence,  but  from  sheer  want 
of  presumption. 

The  German  has  so  long  been  the  soldier  of 
Europe  that  the  military  instinct  has  entered  into 
his  blood.  The  military  virtues  he  possesses  in 
abundance.  But  he  also  suffers  from  the  draw- 
backs'of  the  military  training.  It  was  told  me  of 
a  German  servant,  lately  released  from  the  bar- 
racks, that  he  was  instructed  by  his  master  to  de- 
liver a  letter  to  a  certain  house,  and  to  wait  there 
for  the  answer.  The  hours  passed  by  and  the 
man  did  not  return.  His  master,  anxious  and 
surprised,  followed.  He  found  the  man  where 
he  had  been  sent,  the  answer  in  his  hand.  He 
was  waiting  for  further  orders.  This  story 
sounds  exaggerated,  but  personally  I  can  credit  it. 

The  curious  thing  is  that  the  same  man,  who 
as  an  individual  is  as  helpless  as  a  child,  becomes 
the  moment  he  puts  on  a  uniform,  an  intelligent 
being,  capable  of  responsibility  and  initiative. 
The  German  can  rule  others  and  be  ruled  by 
others,  but  he  cannot  rule  himself.  The  cure 
would  appear  to  be  to  train  every  German  for  an 
officer  and  then  put  him  under  himself.  It  is 
certain  he  would  order  himself  about  with  discre- 
tion and  judgment,  and  see  to  it  that  he  himself 
obeyed  himself  with  smartness  and  precision. 

288 


Back   to   Ethelbertha 

For  the  direction   of  German   character   into 
these  channels,  the  schools,  of  course,  are  chiefly 


a  Told  to  go  and  hang  himself" 

responsible.  Their  everlasting  teaching  is  Duty. 
It  is  a  fine  ideal  for  any  people  ;  but  before  buck- 
ling to  it,  one  would  wish  to  have  a  clear  under- 
standing as  to  what  this  Duty  is.  The  German 
19  289 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W^h  eels 

idea  of  it  would  appear  to  be :  "  Blind  obedience 
to  everything  in  buttons."  It  is  the  antithesis  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  scheme,  but  as  both  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  and  the  Teuton  are  prospering,  there  must 
be  help  in  both  methods.  Hitherto  the  German 
has  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  exceptionally 
well  governed  ;  if  this  continue,  it  would  go  well 
with  him.  When  his  troubles  will  begin  will  be 
when  by  any  chance  something  goes  wrong  with 
the  governing  machine.  But  maybe  his  method 
has  the  advantage  of  producing  a  continuous 
supply  of  good  governors ;  it  would  certainly 
seem  so. 

As  a  trader,  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  German 
will,  unless  his  temperament  considerably  change, 
remain  always  a  long  way  behind  his  Anglo-Saxon 
competitor  :  and  this  by  reason  of  his  virtues.  To 
him  life  is  something  more  important  than  a  mere 
race  for  wealth.  A  country  that  closes  its  banks 
and  post-offices  for  two  hours  in  the  middle  of 
the  day  while  it  goes  home  and  enjoys  a  comfort- 
able meal  in  the  bosom  of  its  family,  with  per- 
haps forty  winks  by  way  of  dessert,  cannot  hope, 
and  possibly  has  no  wish,  to  compete  with  a 
people  that  takes  its  meals  standing,  and  sleeps 
with  a  telephone  over  its  bed.  In  Germany 
there  is  not  —  at  all  events,  as  yet — sufficient 
distinction  between  the  classes  to  make  the  strug- 
gle for  position  the  life-and-death  affair  it  is  in 
England  and  America.  Beyond  the  landed  aris- 

290 


Back  to   Etbelbertba 

tocracy,  whose  boundaries  are  impregnable,  grade 
hardly  counts.  Frau  Professor  and  Frau  Candle- 
stick-maker meet  at  the  weekly  Kaffee-Klatsch 
and  exchange  scandal  on  terms  of  mutual  equal- 
ity. The  Wirtschaft-keeper  and  the  Doctor  hob- 
nob together.  The  wealthy  master-builder,  when 
he  prepares  his  roomy  wagon  for  an  excursion 
into  the  country,  invites  his  foreman  and  his 
tailor  to  join  him  with  their  families.  Each 
brings  his  share  of  drink  and  provisions,  and 
returning  home  they  sing  in  chorus  the  same 
songs. 

So  long  as  this  state  of  things  endures  a  man  is 
not  induced  to  sacrifice  the  best  years  of  his  life 
to  win  a  fortune  for  his  dotage.  His  tastes  — 
and  more  to  the  point,  still,  his  wife's  —  remain 
inexpensive.  He  likes  to  see  his  flat  or  villa  fur- 
nished with  much  red  plush  upholstery  and  a 
profusion  of  gilt  and  lacquer.  But  that  is  his 
idea,  and  maybe  it  is  in  no  worse  taste  than  is  a 
mixture  of  bastard  Elizabethan  with  imitation 
Louis  XV.,  the  whole  lit  by  electric  light  and 
smothered  with  photographs.  Possibly  he  will 
have  his  outer  walls  painted  by  the  local  artist : 
a  sanguinary  battle,  a  good  deal  interfered  with 
by  the  front  door,  taking  place  below,  while  Bis- 
marck, as  an  angel,  flutters  vaguely  about  the  bed- 
room windows.  But  for  his  Old  Masters  he  is 
quite  content  to  go  to  the  public  galleries ;  and, 
"the  Celebrity  at  Home"  not  having  as  yet 

291 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    W h  eels 

taken  its  place  amongst  the  institutions  of  the 
Fatherland,  he  is  not  impelled  to  waste  his  money 
turning  his  house  into  an  old  curiosity  shop. 

The  German  is  a  gourmand.  There  are  still 
English  farmers  who,  while  telling  you  that  farm- 
ing spells  starvation,  enjoy  their  seven  solid  meals 
a  day.  Once  a  year  there  comes  a  week's  feast 
throughout  Russia,  during  which  many  deaths  oc- 
cur from  the  over-eating  of  pancakes ;  but  this  is 
a  religious  festival  and  an  exception.  Taking  him 
all  around,  the  German  as  a  trencherman  stands 
preeminent  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  He 
rises  early,  and  while  dressing  tosses  off  a  few 
cups  of  coffee,  together  with  half  a  dozen  hot 
buttered  rolls.  But  it  is  not  until  ten  o'clock 
that  he  sits  down  to  anything  that  can  properly 
be  called  a  meal.  At  one  or  half-past  takes  place 
his  chief  dinner.  Of  this  he  makes  a  business, 
remaining  at  it  for  a  couple  of  hours.  At  four 
o'clock  he  goes  to  the  cafe,  eats  cakes  and  drinks 
chocolate.  After  that  he  touches  nothing  for  at 
least  three  hours.  The  evening  he  devotes  to  eat- 
ing generally ;  not  a  set  meal,  or  rarely,  but  a 
series  of  snacks  :  a  bottle  of  beer  and  a  Belegete- 
semmel  or  two  at  seven,  say ;  another  bottle  of 
beer  and  an  Aufschnitt  at  the  theatre  between  the 
acts  ;  a  small  bottle  of  white  wine  and  a  Spiegeleier 
before  going  home ;  then  a  piece  of  cheese  or 
sausage,  washed  down  by  more  beer,  previous  to 
turning  in  for  the  night. 

292 


Back   to   Ethelbertha 

But  he  is  no  gourmet.  French  cooks  and 
French  prices  are  not  the  rule  at  his  restaurant. 
His  beer  or  his  inexpensive  native  white  wine  he 
prefers  to  the  most  costly  clarets  or  champagnes. 
And,  indeed,  it  is  well  for  him  he  does,  for  one  is 
inclined  to  think  that  every  time  a  French  grower 
sells  a  bottle  of  wine  to  a  German  hotel  or  shop- 
keeper Sedan  is  rankling  in  his  mind.  It  is  a 
foolish  revenge,  seeing  that  it  is  not  the  German 
who  as  a  rule  drinks  it :  the  punishment  falls 
upon  some  innocent  travelling  Englishman. 
Maybe,  however,  the  French  dealer  remembers 
also  Waterloo,  and  feels  that  in  any  event  he 
scores. 

In  Germany  expensive  entertainments  are  nei- 
ther offered  nor  expected.  Everything  through- 
out the  Fatherland  is  homely  and  friendly.  The 
German  has  no  costly  sports  to  pay  for,  no 
showy  establishments  to  maintain,  no  purse-proud 
circle  to  dress  for.  His  chief  pleasure,  a  seat  at 
the  opera  or  concert,  can  be  had  for  a  few  marks ; 
and  his  wife  and  daughters  walk  there  in  home- 
made dresses,  with  shawls  over  their  heads.  In- 
deed, throughout  the  country  the  absence  of  all 
ostentation  is  to  English  eyes  quite  refreshing. 
Private  carriages  are  few  and  far  between,  and 
even  the  droschke  is  made  use  of  only  when  the 
quicker  and  cleaner  electric  car  is  not  available. 

By  such  means  the  German  retains  his  inde- 
pendence. The  shopkeeper  in  Germany  does 

293 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Wh  eels 

not  fawn  upon  his  customers.  I  accompanied 
an  American  lady  once  on  a  shopping  excursion 
in  Munich.  She  had  been  accustomed  to  shop- 
ping in  London  and  New  York,  and  she  grum- 
bled at  everything  the  man  showed  her.  It  was 
not  that  she  was  really  dissatisfied :  this  was  her 
method.  She  explained  that  she  could  get  most 
things  cheaper  and  better  elsewhere ;  not  that 
she  really  thought  she  could,  merely  she  held  it 
good  for  the  shopkeeper  to  say  this.  She  told 
him  that  his  stock  lacked  taste :  she  did  not 
mean  to  be  offensive  ;  as  I  have  explained,  it 
was  her  plan  ;  that  there  was  no  variety  about  it ; 
that  it  was  not  up-to-date  ;  that  it  was  common- 
place ;  that  it  looked  as  if  it  would  not  wear. 
He  did  not  argue  with  her  ;  he  did  not  contradict 
her.  He  put  the  things  back  into  their  respect- 
ive boxes,  replaced  the  boxes  on  their  respective 
shelves,  walked  into  the  little  parlor  behind  the 
shop  and  closed  the  door. 

"  Is  n't  he  ever  coming  back  ?  "  asked  the  lady, 
after  a  couple  of  minutes  had  elapsed.  Her 
tone  did  not  imply  a  question  so  much  as  an 
exclamation  of  mere  impatience. 

"  I  doubt  it,"  I  replied. 

"Why  not  ?  "  she  asked,  much  astonished. 

"  I  expect,"  I  answered,  "  you  have  bored 
him.  In  all  probability  he  is  at  this  moment 
behind  that  door  smoking  a  pipe  and  reading 
the  paper." 

294 


Back   to   Ethelbertha 

"  What  an  extraordinary  shopkeeper !  "  said 
my  friend,  as  she  gathered  her  parcels  together 
and  indignantly  walked  out. 

"It  is  their  way,"  I  explained.  "There  are 
the  goods ;  if  you  want  them  you  can  have  them. 
If  you  do  not  want  them  they  would  almost  rather 
that  you  did  not  come  and  talk  about  them." 

On  another  occasion  I  listened  in  the  smoke 
room  of  a  German  hotel  to  a  small  Englishman 
telling  a  tale  which  had  I  been  in  his  place  I 
should  have  kept  to  myself. 

"  It  does  n't  do,"  said  the  little  Englishman, 
"  to  try  and  beat  a  German  down.  They  don't 
seem  to  understand  it.  I  saw  a  first  edition  of 
The  Robbers  in  a  shop  in  the  Georg  Platz.  I 
went  in  and  asked  the  price.  It  was  a  rum  old 
chap  behind  the  counter.  He  said  :  c  Twenty- 
five  marks/  and  went  on  reading.  I  told  him  I 
had  seen  a  better  copy  only  a  few  days  before  for 
twenty  :  one  talks  like  that  when  one  is  bargain- 
ing ;  it  is  understood.  He  asked  me  f  Where  ? ' 
I  told  him  in  a  shop  at  Leipsig.  He  suggested 
my  returning  there  and  getting  it ;  he  did  not 
seem  to  care  whether  I  bought  the  book  or 
whether  I  did  n't.  I  said  : 

"  c  What 's  the  least  you  will  take  for  it  ? ' 

"  c  I  have  told  you  once,'  he  answered  ;  'twenty- 
five  marks.'  He  was  an  irritable  old  chap. 

"  I  said  :  c  It 's  not  worth  it.' 

" c  I  never  said  it  was,  did  I  ? '  he  snapped. 
29S 


Three   Men   on    Wheels 

"  I  said :  c  I  '11  give  you  ten  marks  for  it.'  I 
thought,  maybe,  he  would  end  by  taking  twenty. 

"  He  arose.  I  took  it  he  was  coming  around 
the  counter  to  get  the  book  down.  Instead,  he 
came  straight  up  to  me.  He  was  a  biggish  sort 
of  man.  He  took  me  by  the  two  shoulders, 
walked  me  out  into  the  street  and  closed  the 
door  behind  me  with  a  bang.  I  was  never  more 
surprised  in  all  my  life." 

"  Maybe  the  book  was  worth  twenty-five 
marks,"  I  suggested. 

"  Of  course  it  was,"  he  replied  ;  "  well  worth 
it.  But  what  a  notion  of  business  !  " 

If  anything  changes  the  German  character  it 
will  be  the  German  woman.  She  herself  is  chang- 
ing rapidly  —  advancing,  as  we  call  it.  Ten 
years  ago  no  German  woman  caring  for  her  repu- 
tation, hoping  for  a  husband,  would  have  dared 
to  ride  a  bicycle ;  to-day  they  spin  about  the 
country  in  their  thousands.  The  old  folks  shake 
their  heads  at  them  ;  but  the  young  men,  I  notice, 
overtake  them  and  ride  beside  them.  Not  long 
ago  it  was  considered  unwomanly  in  Germany  for 
a  lady  to  be  able  to  do  the  outside  edge.  Her 
proper  skating  attitude  was  thought  to  be  that  of 
clinging  limpness  to  some  male  relative.  Now 
she  practises  eights  in  a  corner  by  herself  until 
some  young  man  comes  along  to  help  her.  She 
plays  tennis,  and  I  have  even  noticed  her,  from 
a  point  of  safety,  driving  a  dog-cart? 

296 


Back  to   Ethelbertha 


Brilliantly  educated  she  always  has  been.  At 
eighteen  she  speaks  two  or  three  languages,  and 
has  forgotten  more  than  the  average  English- 
woman has  ever  read.  Hitherto  this  education 
has  been  utterly  useless  to  her.  On  marriage  she 
has  retired  into  the  kitchen  and  made  haste  to 
clear  her  brain  of  everything  else  in  order  to  leave 
room  for  bad  cooking.  But  suppose  it  begin  to 
dawn  upon  her  that  a  woman  need  not  sacrifice 
her  whole  existence  to  household  drudgery  any 
more  than  a  man  need  make  himself  nothing  else 
than  a  business  machine.  Suppose  she  develop 
an  ambition  to  take  part  in  the  social  and  national 
life.  Then  the  influence  of  such  a  partner,  healthy 
in  body  and  therefore  vigorous  in  mind,  is  bound 
to  be  both  lasting  and  far-reaching. 

For  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  German 
man  is  exceptionally  sentimental,  and  most  easily 
influenced  by  his  womenfolk.  Jt  is  said  of  him 
he  is  the  best  of  lovers,  the  worst  of  husbands. 
This  has  been  the  woman's  fault.  Once  married, 
the  German  woman  has  done  more  than  put 
romance  behind  her :  she  has  taken  a  carpet- 
beater  and  driven  it  out  of  the  house.  As  a  girl, 
she  never  understood  dressing ;  as  a  wife,  she 
takes  off  such  clothes  even  as  she  had,  and  pro- 
ceeds to  wrap  herself  up  in  remnants :  at  all 
events,  this  is  the  impression  she  produces.  The 
figure  that  might  often  be  that  of  a  Juno,  the 
complexion  that  would  sometimes  do  credit  to  a 

297 


Th  r  e  e   Men   on    Jf^b  eels 

healthy  angel,  she  proceeds  of  malice  and  intent 
to  spoil.  She  sells  her  birthright  of  admiration 
and  devotion  for  a  mess  of  sweets.  Every  after- 
noon you  may  see  her  at  the  cafe,  loading  herself 
with  rich  cream-covered  cakes,  washed  down  by 
copious  draughts  of  chocolate.  In  a  short  time 
she  becomes  fat,  pasty,  placid,  and  utterly  unin- 
teresting. 

When  the  German  woman  gives  up  her  after- 
noon coffee  and  her  evening  beer,  takes  sufficient 
exercise  to  retain  her  shape,  and  continues  to  read 
after  marriage  something  else  than  the  cookery 
book,  the  German  Government  will  find  it  has 
a  new  and  unknown  force  to  deal  with.  And 
everywhere  throughout  Germany  one  is  confronted 
by  unmistakable  signs  that  the  old  German  Frauen 
are  giving  place  to  the  newer  Damen. 

Concerning  what  will  then  happen  one  feels 
curious.  For  the  German  nation  is  still  young, 
and  its  maturity  is  of  importance  to  the  world. 
They  are  a  good  people,  a  lovable  people,  who 
should  help  much  to  make  the  world  better. 

The  worst  that, can  be  said  against  them  is  that 
they  have  their  failings.  They  themselves  do 
not  know  this ;  they  consider  themselves  perfect: 
which  is  foolish  of  them.  They  even  go  so  far 
as  to  think  themselves  superior  to  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  :  this  is  incomprehensible.  One  feels  they 
must  be  pretending. 

"They  have  their  points,"  said  George,  "but 
298 


Back   to   Etbelbertba 

their  tobacco  is  a  national  sin.  I  'm  going  to 
bed." 

We  rose  and  leaning  over  the  low  stone  para- 
pet, watched  the  dancing  lights  upon  the  soft, 
dark  river. 

"  It  has  been  a  pleasant  Bummel,  on  the 
whole,"  said  Harris.  "  I  shall  be  glad  to  get 
back,  and  yet  I  am  sorry  it  is  over ;  if  you  can 
understand  me." 

"  What  is  a  Bummel,"  said  George.  "  How 
would  you  translate  it  ? " 

I  thought  a  moment,  listening  to  the  endless 
voices  of  the  waters,  hurrying  onward. 

"A  Bummel,"  I  explained,  "  I  should  describe 
as  :  A  journey,  long  or  short,  without  an  end ; 
the  only  thing  regulating  it  being  the  necessity 
of  getting  back  within  a  given  time  to  the  point 
from  which  we  started.  Sometimes  it  is  through 
busy  streets,  and  sometimes  through  the  fields 
and  lanes ;  sometimes  we  can  be  spared  for  only 
a  few  hours  and  sometimes  for  a  few  days.  But 
long  or  short,  but  here  or  there,  our  thoughts  are 
ever  on  the  running  of  the  sand.  We  nod  and 
smile  to  many  as  we  pass ;  with  some  we  stop  to 
talk  awhile  ;  and  with  a  few  we  walk  a  little  way. 
We  have  been  much  interested,  and  often  a  little 
tired.  But  on  the  whole,  we  have  had  a  pleasant 
time  ;  and  are  sorry  when  *t  is  over." 


299 


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